The Golds
by ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers
Summary: Continuation of "Mr. and Mrs. Gold". A young bookseller takes in a heavily pregnant Belle, drawn in by the mystery that surrounds her. Meanwhile, Mr. Gold juggles between trying to help his wife remember and keeping Storybrooke from falling apart. Are-you-even-watching-the-same-show AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own Katja...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

"I'm somewhere on the outskirts of Seattle, in this cute little bookstore called "Spinner's Corner"... It reminds me a lot of the shop, actually," Rose confessed, brushing her hair back from her forehead, "Haven't decided where I'm staying tonight yet... I'm a little nervous about going into Seattle."

"Can't be any worse than New York City," he murmured.

"I was hardly even showing when I went through NYC...now I'm roughly the size of a barge," she rested a hand on her swollen stomach, which was large enough to rest a plate on.

Mr. Gold gave a shy smile, "I think you look lovely."

Rose rolled her eyes, "You obviously haven't seen my waddle."

The bookstore was empty except for where she sat at a two person table in the corner, her laptop in front of her. Skype was opened up to show her husband, a not-quite-unhandsome Scot who perpetually dressed as though he were going to a formal event, nearly twenty five hundred miles away. The picture quality was decent, even if their office seemed tinted with blues and each movement was done in slow motion. The Skype conversations unnerved her, but at least she could see his reactions with the web cam. Over the phone all she had to go on were his tones and inflections to figure out what he was thinking.

She still wasn't used to the way he looked at her, as though she were the most incredible person in the world and every word she spoke was treasure. It wasn't until she had caught him cheating on her and told him she was pregnant with his child that he had started acting this way, like he actually loved her.

He insisted he hadn't cheated, but that was a whole other mess Rose didn't feel like tackling tonight.

"How are you doing?" Mr. Gold asked urgently, "Do you need anything? Money? Books? Chocolate?"

Rose shook her head, "I could go for a foot rub, but I don't think you can do that."

Mr. Gold smirked, "Is that a challenge, dearie?"

Panic rushed through Rose. It must have shown on her face because he flinched.

"...I'm sure there's a spa around that would give you a foot rub," he murmured in defeat.

"I wasn't serious," she muttered.

She supposed that he was trying, and she should give in to his attempts to be with her. But the memory of the first time she had complained of aching feet...of the phantom sensations of hands kneading into her soles and it being clear that he was doing _something_ to cause it... He had apologized for a week after that little incident.

Rose liked normal, predictable things. Whatever her husband had become since his affair was anything but normal or predictable.

"How's Bella?" He asked with downcast eyes, retreating to a safer discussion.

She sighed, "Her sleep schedule's horrid... Decides it's time for kickboxing in the middle of the night. But she seems to be developing fine, no health issues that any of the doctors have seen. You did get the last pictures, didn't you?"

"Yes, yes I did." He played with his hands, before taking a deep breath and glancing at her, "...please come home, Rose. Take a vacation from this whole Bae quest, have our child here, in Storybrooke..."

He'd been begging for her to come home since the day after he gave a speech that, while most of it she thought was rubbish, was still ingrained in her mind.

She looked him firmly in the eyes, "I'm not coming home until I find Baelfire. If that means I have your child in a strange city, so be it."

Some days he'd argue with her. Insist that it could take years to find the boy. Sometimes he would get mad and demand she return. The threats weren't too substantial; it wasn't like he was brave enough to come after her.

Most days, like apparently today, he'd just gaze at her sadly.

"As you wish."

The words sent an ache through her, a longing that grew out of reading too many romance novels. She wondered if he had ever read "The Princess Bride", if he knew what those words could mean.

She pinched at the bridge of her nose, "It's getting late, and I'm not sure when this store closes. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Mr. Gold smiled, "I hope so."

The affair had made him vulnerable, practically desperate and groveling. An image she couldn't reconcile with the husband she knew.

"I love you," he said timidly.

"I know," she said flippantly, before logging out of Skype.

She buried her face in her hands and started to cry. Crying because she missed him? How could she miss someone who had married her simply because it wasn't proper for a young lady to live with a single man? No, she was crying because nothing made sense. Years upon years of knowledge insisted that Mr. Gold was a distant, chilly man...and yet all he seemed to be in the conversations over the past few months was warm and affectionate.

Not a damn thing made sense...unless she was to buy into what he had been telling her.

There was the sound of something clicking across the wooden floorboards and then it was standing on her lap, licking at her hands and face.

It had been a slow day, and Benjamin Spinner's business instincts told him that there was no particular reason for it. Some days were just slow, and he couldn't blame people for not wanting to venture out into the continuous Washington drizzle. There had been a handful of customers, most notably a pretty young woman asking if he had Wifi and then ordering tea and a lemon poppy-seed scone.

He preferred the busy days, and wished today had been one.

He set the iced brownie onto a plate, standing in the small kitchen behind the cafe/register. The two story building served as both Ben's business and his home, and this kitchen was just one example of dual functionality. He rummaged through a drawer until he found a single candle, stabbing it into the center of the brownie before digging around for a matchbox. He struck a match and lit the candle, cheerily humming to himself.

"Ha-ppy birth-day to me, ha-ppy birth-day to me, ha-ppy birth-day dear me-eee, ha-ppy birth-day to me."

Sadie's eyes opened lazily, nose twitching at the smell of chocolate. He smiled at her.

"Wake up just in time for cake, I see how it is," he teased.

He leaned down on the counter, gazing at the flicker of light. Ben didn't care much for fire, but he could admire how beautiful it was...when it was contained. He closed his eyes, made his usual wish, and then blew out the little light.

A lot of ceremony just to ask for a wish.

He pulled the candle out and sucked on the iced end, sighing, "This is the year, Sadie, I can feel it. This year we find him."

The Border Collie rose and stretched from her nap in the corner of the kitchen, yawning slowly. She hobbled over to where he was and sat at his feet, watching him pleadingly as he started to partake in his birthday dessert. Ben grinned, and broke off a chunk.

"If you get sick, don't come whining to me," he warned before offering it to her.

With as much lady-like gentleness as she could muster, Sadie accepted the forbidden treat, gulping it down. She wagged her tail and licked his hand appreciatively. He scratched her behind the ears.

"Dunno what I'd do without you, girl," he murmured, "Probably go crazy or something."

Sadie just stared up at him with adoring amber eyes, a devotion in them that Ben rarely saw in humans.

Her ears perked suddenly and she turned towards the door. She limped away, nudging it open and disappearing into the store. Ben's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Sadie?" He asked, setting down the rest of his brownie, "Sadie-girl..."

He pushed open the door to emerge in the cafe, only to see Sadie ruthlessly attacking the unfortunate do-you-have-Wifi girl; tail wagging viciously as she covered her face and hands in enthusiastic kisses.

"Sadie-girl!" Ben scolded, "Down! Leave the poor woman alone!"

Sadie's ears drooped as she stepped off of the customer's lap, tail going still. The woman laughed.

"It's alright, she was just saying "hello"," she insisted, offering a hand to Sadie. Sadie didn't even bother with sniffing, just devouring it with more kisses.

"She knows better than to attack customers," Ben said firmly, glancing over the woman.

She was beautiful, no doubt about that, with long curls of brown and skin like porcelain. Even her extremely-pregnant belly wasn't off-putting; if anything it made her seem more attractive, a sweet mother-to-be. And those eyes, so freaking blue... But her face was red and puffy, voice rough from fresh-shed tears. Ben's eyebrows knit together.

"Are you alright, miss?" He asked.

She nodded, "I'm fine."

"Fine...or you just don't want to talk about it?"

Rose glanced up to take in the young man in front of her. He was college-aged, thin and not particularly tall. Thick dark hair threatened to hang into his wise brown eyes, the ends curling. She frowned.

"Do you believe…" She began, then hesitated, "…that truth is stranger than fiction?"

Ben chuckled, "Wholeheartedly. May I?" He gestured to the chair opposite her. She nodded and he pulled it up to her, Sadie sitting contentedly between them.

He saw a flash of gold on the woman's left hand. Married and pregnant...could Sadie play matchmaker with anyone _less_ available?

"I'm just...in a very difficult spot right now," The woman said carefully, "My husband and I are going through a rough patch, and I can't tell if our separation is hurting or helping."

"Sometimes it's important to take a break from our loved ones," Ben said, glancing down at her stomach.

She rested a hand over it self-consciously, "...it's not a break either of us wanted," she murmured and even through her haze of confusion she knew that was true, "It just...happened."

Ben bowed his head briefly, "I'm sorry to hear that." He held out his hand, "My name's Ben, Benjamin Spinner."

"Benjamin Spinner of "Spinner's Corner", that's cute," she shook his hand, "Rosaline Gold, but most people call me Rose."

"Nice to meet you," he glanced around the empty bookstore, "So where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Maine, a little town called Storybrooke."

He frowned, "Haven't heard of it."

"Most haven't," she assured him.

"Is the weather any better over there?"

Rose shrugged, "It's less rainy, but it's also freezing cold most of the time."

Ben grinned, "Can't have it all, I suppose," he tilted his head, "Are you here for sightseeing?"

She bit her lip, "No, actually I'm looking for someone."

"Oh?"

"My husband's estranged son," she sighed and looked down at the table, drawing small patterns over its surface with her finger, "Not sure why _I'm_ the one doing it... Especially because he'll probably just leave me for his mistress once I do."

Ben's eyebrows raised, not sure how to respond, "I, uh...wow... Sorry."

"It's alright now," she murmured, "It's a...long story."

"And you'd prefer not to tell a stranger," he guessed. Rose nodded.

Sadie, clearly feeling neglected, started licking at Rose's arm. The woman giggled and scratched her neck, Sadie pushing the sleeve further and further up.

Ben's heart stopped mid-beat. A long jagged line ran from Rose's left wrist to the crook of her elbow, a black mark that looked like it was cut into obsidian rather than flesh.

Sadie hadn't intended to play matchmaker at all. She was merely drawn to the magic that this woman apparently had, trying to point it out to her master. Rose cleared her throat and Ben quickly averted his gaze, realizing he had been staring. She pulled her sleeve back down, once again hiding the mark.

"Have you found somewhere to stay yet?" Ben heard himself ask.

Rose shook her head, "Not yet. I'm a little nervous about Seattle, to be honest."

Ben ran a hand over his hair anxiously, "Well, um, I do have a spare bedroom upstairs... I don't like the thought of you being on your own, miss."

Rose smiled, "It would be much appreciated...if you don't mind."

"Sadie and I would love the company," he assured her with a genuine smile, "It gets lonely with just us here."

Ben tried to tell himself that he would do this for any stranger passing through, and he had let guests stay free-of-charge in his spare room in the past. But he couldn't ignore the fact that this was self-serving just as much as being charitable. Maybe she was a young witch, or a realm jumper… Either way, she had his attention.

**III**

Mr. Gold continued to stare at the screen after Belle logged out, feeling the usual ache. Yes, they were at least civil now, and he had managed to tell her the whole truth without her freaking out over the course of five and a half months. Sometimes he could almost see flickers of his Belle; laughing at a joke, smiling in that "you're such a dork I love you" way, her eyes lighting up as she described the sights she was seeing, promising to send pictures. She was seeing the world...he should be glad that that particular dream had come true.

But what he wouldn't do...what he wouldn't _give_...to hear her call him "Rum" again. For her to say "I love you". For this demon called Rose to disappear and let his beloved Belle return to him.

Belle had told him not to send her away... She had begged to stay with him... And he hadn't listened.

"Mrawr?" Figaro asked.

Mr. Gold sighed, closing out of Skype, "No luck tonight, cat. She's still not our Belle."

He turned around to see the cat curled up in the leather office chair, staring dejectedly at him. Had that fur ball really been bothering him for a whole year now? He was hardly the frightened tiny kitten they had brought home from Geppetto's.

The cat rested his head back down on his paws and sighed. Belle's leaving had been just as hard on the creature and for the first week he had kept running away, going to the town line to mewl at the top of his feline lungs towards the road. Mr. Gold had wanted to kill him those first few days; did he really think he was the only one who missed Belle?! But the night he was called in to the animal shelter, looking at a rain-soaked cat with eyes drenched in misery, the anger had ceased. A hole had formed in both of them at her absence; tragedy had made them brothers in pain.

The first time he and Belle had Skyped, the cat had eagerly jumped onto the keyboard, mewling happily at the sight of his adoptive mother. Belle stared and asked Mr. Gold when had they gotten a cat. She did not coo or squeal with delight; she merely asked what its name was. She ignored her cat.

Figaro didn't greet her anymore whenever he saw her on the screen, simply curling up in the background with his ears swiveled towards her voice.

Belle was huge now, her hair so long, and it was beautiful. Yet he couldn't even rest a hand on her swollen stomach, hoping to feel their child move within her. Mr. Gold blinked back tears and grabbed his cane, getting to his feet.

"I need a drink," he decided.

It was a grand house, white with roman pillars on the porch and two balconies, one in the front and another overlooking the lake. The lawn was a little overgrown as opposed to its neighbors but the house was better kept than he expected from its occupant. A mat asking kindly for people to wipe their paws was set in front of the door, a homemade sign over the peephole warning "STOP! Have a good reason before bothering me. And for the gods' sake if the door's locked don't magick it open! I might not even be home, or sleeping, or doing something other than waiting around for you to barge in."

Mr. Gold paid no mind to the sign and flicked the lock open, strolling in like he owned the place. Technically, he did.

The living room had an incredibly similar set-up to the Robinsons' in "The Graduate", right down to the large windows and bar. Everything was white and undecorated, as if the resident was either just moving in or just moving out. The Killers blared out of an IPod stereo.

"She's touching his che-est now, he takes off her dre-ess now, letting me go. And I just can't look it's kill-ing meee… Dude, what the hell does the sign say?"

Mr. Gold fought back a smile as Katja broke from her sing-along, glaring at him over the counter. At fifteen she really shouldn't be mixing her own alcoholic drinks… Then again that was twenty-two in werecat years. Much like Red's slow-returning senses, Katja had gradually become less and less human until Kit was only visible through her vocabulary. Cheekbones as sharp as her claws, cat-like eyes and ears that narrowed into tips, he still recalled the day she had enthusiastically mooned him, demanding he look at the little stub of a cat tail that was growing back.

"I tried calling, but your phone's turned off," he said.

"Yeah, I'm kind of avoiding Grace right now…and people in general," she punched the "off" button to the player and turned around, taking him in. She frowned, "Bad date with Bluebelle?"

He nodded and she shooed him towards the futon couch, the only piece of furniture in the living room. He obliged, sinking into one corner.

"Two weeks, Pussycat. Fourteen days until Belle's due date. And yet I am no closer to persuading her to come home."

"You knew she was stubborn when you married her," Katja insisted and as he watched her, he wondered if one of his kitty cat's numerous reincarnations was that of a bartender. Being a wanderer for so long meant she had a new self for practically every region she entered, different shades of the same girl.

The Puss in Boots. The Puss in Rumplestiltskin's Boots, to be precise.

She came around the counter and offered him a glass of scotch. He took it and she perched down at the other end of the futon, nursing her rum.

"I didn't want her to be stubborn about _this_," he growled, downing his drink, "She's out there, alone, and going to have a baby any day now."

"And she's Belle, the woman who made a man out of a beast," she retorted, "Don't let this whole Rose thing fool you. Deep down there is a badass who is going to pop that kid out and slap it on her back like Sacajawea."

Mr. Gold grimaced, not liking the mental image that "slapping" and "baby" being in the same sentence brought up.

"Point is, if there's anyone I'd trust to be fine on their own, it's Bluebelle. Stop worrying about what she's up to and focus on finding a way to leave Storybrooke to drag her ass back," she commanded, taking another sip.

Since when had Katja been the practical one in any situation? And since when had his little kitten started moving into the realms of womanhood?

"Are you fighting with Grace?" He asked.

Katja looked surprised by the sudden change of subjects, then finished off her drink to keep from answering.

"…not necessarily," she finally mumbled when there was nothing left to fill her mouth with, "Just might've pulled an emotional hit-and-run on the girl."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She tried to invite me over some time to meet her dad, so I told her that probably wouldn't be a good idea. She asked why so I 'fessed up to the fact that I'm the reason her mother's dead."

Mr. Gold wasn't sure if the booze was completely to blame for his confusion, but it sure didn't help matters.

"Her mother? But you're not much older than she is."

Katja set her glass down, "Remember that first year after I left you, how it was like I fell off the face of the earth? I kind of did. I went to Wonderland…and grew up with Jefferson and Alice."

Mr. Gold stared and Katja explained.

"Time passes a lot faster there. Jeffy and Alice didn't always stay in Wonderland, going off to another world every few months with that hat of his. I didn't follow; too busy looking for a rabbit hole… The Queen of Hearts caught wind that a couple of realm-jumpers were in her kingdom and the Looking Glass War began," she took a deep breath, "And somewhere in the middle of all that, Alice and Jeffy married and had Grace… But Her Majesty was right on our tails. Jefferson had to leave with Grace…and I was supposed to protect Alice." Katja raked her nails through her hair, "Can we go back to talking about your issues with Belle? That's a lot easier than picking at raw wounds…"

"Puss, I doubt it was your fault."

"Might as well have been, for all the good I did," she grumbled.

Mr. Gold rolled his eyes and sighed, "Come here."

"No."

"Please?"

"I don't trust you."

"Fine then," He sat back and waited.

After a few minutes, Katja crawled across the expanse of the futon to his side. He smirked, then started scratching behind her head. She protested for a moment, and then he heard the tell-tale rumble deep in her throat.

"You're a good kitty," he insisted.

"I'd say morally ambiguous," she muttered around her purring.

"You should sort things out with Grace."

"And you should keep out of things when I tell you to."

"That's a laugh, hearing that from the queen of meddling."

"Learned from the best."

She rubbed her face against his palm, moving his fingers to wherever she wanted attention. Her claws kneaded into the futon as he scratched under her chin, her eyes rolling back as he paid special notice to the tip. He smiled, the low thrumming a soothing noise even if he wasn't much of a cat person.

"Why can't we go back to the way it was in the Dark Castle, back when snuggling looked innocent?" She murmured.

Mr. Gold chuckled, "A little girl cuddling a grown man in his bed? It's never looked innocent," he said sadly, "Only we know there's nothing perverted about it."

Katja sighed, "I need a boyfriend," she decided.

"No, dearie, you need a kitten. Like Belle's."

She rolled her eyes and sat back on her heels, "Didn't work the first dozen times you tried to pawn Figgy off on me. You sleeping over?"

"Yes."

"Well you know where the blankets are." She rose from the couch and stalked off, presumably to her room to plot.

He was aware of how desperate he appeared, but it was one of those nights where his pride meant nothing in the face of going back to the empty house he had once shared with his loving wife.

**III**

"That's sweet of you, but you really don't have to. I'm not that weak," Rose insisted as Ben hoisted her duffel bag over his shoulder.

"A lady shouldn't have to carry her own bags," he claimed.

She snickered, "And here I thought chivalry was dead."

And he had thought that there was no magic in this land. It appeared that they both were a little wrong in their assumptions.

The only thing she carried was a small case, leather with well-worn buckles that could almost pass as a purse were it not for its rigid box structure. She followed him from her truck back to the store, where Sadie waited patiently for them.

Now, as they made their way through the tall bookshelves towards the back, Rose started to notice Sadie's awkward gait.

"Is she alright?" Rose asked worriedly.

Ben frowned and glanced down at the dog, who only wagged her tail and continued walking, "Oh, that," he said, relieved, "She was hit by a car a long time ago… She doesn't walk too well anymore, but she's the best dog you'll ever meet."

Sadie's tail seemed to wag harder at his praise.

He led them to a small elevator near the shop's bathroom, despite the fact it was only a two-story building.

"Is this for Sadie too?" Rose guessed as they crammed into the small box.

"She has trouble with stairs," Ben explained as he pressed the "up" button. He stared down at Sadie as the elevator started moving, "…she's the only family I've got."

Before Rose could give her condolences, the doors reopened and she was ushered in to a narrow hallway.

"So feel free to use the bathroom," he nodded towards it before continuing, pointing out each room as he mentioned them, "That's my office, will probably be in there if you need anything, or my bedroom or, yanno, actually working downstairs. And here is the deluxe suite," he teased, nodding to the final door at the end of the hallway.

Rose flushed, "This is very kind of you, Ben, I really appreciate all of this."

"It's no problem; I have a spare room, you need one…" He shrugged, "It makes sense. A little bit of kindness goes a long way."

He opened the door and set the duffel bag on the bed, "I'll let you get settled, then. Good night."

"Good night, Ben," Rose said, setting the case on the nightstand.

Ben hesitated, hand on the doorknob. Rose glanced up at him, "Something the matter?"

"No, no," he shook his head quickly, pausing for a moment before saying, "You enjoy your stay…Rose."

He shut the door behind him and she took a good look at her new room. It had a certain cabin-esque feel to it, with visible wooden beams and shades of brown decorating the small room. There were several things that seemed to just be stored in here, including a Sounders pennant tacked above the headboard and something under a painter's sheet. She sighed and started dressing for bed. She'd have to ask Ben about where she should start on her search through Seattle.

Ben had retired to his office, waking up his computer and typing "Storybrooke, Maine" into the search engine. No results came back and he frowned. So she had either lied about where she came from…or the town was virtually invisible. Common sense told him the former made the most sense, but he couldn't excuse the latter.

He burned the midnight oil searching for anything he could find, but it was all dead ends. He finally resigned himself to attempt sleep, crossing the hallway. He paused when he noticed Sadie curled up in front of the guest room door.

"You comin', girl?" He whispered.

Sadie glanced at him and then readjusted her muzzle on her paws, looking almost as if she were keeping the strange woman from leaving. If only he could be as blatant.

**IIIII**

Hello, my dearies, and welcome back! Apparently I have been forgiven if you decided to check this out, or maybe not and you're just holding back killing me to see if I make things better in the sequel.

Things will be better, I promise. This ride will come to a full and complete stop, as opposed to a crash of burning debris.

Next time: We get to know Ben a little bit better…though I'm guessing 95% of you have already figured out who he is (The man refuses to be subtle). Also, Jefferson and Katja drama.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own Katja...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

**Additional disclaimer**: Taboo subject broached delicately in the Storybrooke part of the plot (pedophilia). It's skippable for this reason so please, be cautious.

It took Rose a moment to realize where she was, not used to well-worn blankets and a broken-in mattress. After sleeping in hotels for so long, it felt nice to be somewhere that felt like a home.

She dressed and opened the door to find Sadie lying down in front of it. The dog glanced up at her and wagged her tail. Rose greeted her with a few pets before making her way downstairs.

The cafe was much more active now, with several tables occupied and conversation filling the air. Ben was busy making drinks, smiling and chatting up the customers as his hands moved effortlessly around the equipment. Rose found herself smiling as she watched, taking the same corner table as she had last night and opening her binder.

She had just found her Seattle maps when a hand rested gently on her shoulder.

"Good morning, Rose." She glanced up to see his beaming face, "I would've brought something up, but I didn't know what you wanted."

She shook her head, "It's fine, I don't need to be spoiled."

He craned his neck, looking over her shoulder, "Mapping out your route?"

"Thinking about it, at least," she sighed, "I'm looking at a day of directories, telephone books, area specific web searches, and newspaper clippings. It gets old around the dozenth time you go through it."

"You've done this a lot?" Ben inquired.

She nodded, then pulled out a simplistic map, showing state boundaries and a couple dozen cities scattered throughout the United States. Checkmarks decorated the names, from Boston to Tallahassee to Portland.

"If I don't find him here, then the last stop is Vancover, British Columbia," she said, "Then I don't know what I'll do."

"You mean your husband's son could be at any of these places?" Ben asked incredulously, "Most of them are cities with hundreds of thousands of people…"

"Perfect places to hide," she said dryly.

Ben straightened, "I'll get you some breakfast," he decided, "What would you like?"

Rose ordered a cinnamon roll and some tea and Ben retreated to the cafe. She was aware of the curious glances she was receiving from some of the other patrons and she turned back to her work, heat rising to her face. She supposed small town mentality existed everywhere, and with it that "When Harry Met Sally" theory.

Ben returned with her food, her drink, and a telephone book, "For starters, at least," he said, nodding to the book.

"Thank you. I left my wallet upstairs though."

Ben glared at her, "You really think I'd let you spend the night here and then make you pay for breakfast?"

"You're not running a charity," Rose insisted.

"No, but that doesn't mean I can't be charitable."

"You can't get something for nothing; there's always a price."

"Prices aren't always in dollars and cents."

"I prefer it that way, so I know exactly what the cost is."

Ben glanced at the counter to see an older gentleman approaching it with a book in hand. He retreated to tend to his customer and Rose fumed, refusing to touch anything he had brought her.

He returned, bowing his head slightly, "Listen, I'm sorry. It just really irritates me, this mindset that everyone has a hidden agenda. Some people just want to make the world a better place, yanno?"

Rose's resolve softened. She could understand the desire for innocence. She had once disillusioned herself into thinking that she would change the world someday as well, and now she was playing bounty hunter for her unfaithful husband. She wouldn't be surprised if he just owed Mr. Gold money.

"I guess I'm just a little jaded," she admitted, "Seen too much of ulterior motives and loan sharks..." she smirked, "Sometimes I wonder if I've accidentally married into some odd form of the mafia."

Ben grinned, "The Maine Mafia? Instead of drugs they deal lobsters?"

Rose giggled, "Headed by the mayor and the pawnbroker."

" "I gave him a crustacean he couldn't refuse"," Ben imitated in a poor accent before leaving to make a lap around the tables, seeing if anyone needed refills or taking dirty dishes back to the kitchen. Rose cut off a bite of her cinnamon roll and pulled out her list of potential aliases to run through the phone book with.

She was only mildly surprised when Ben took the seat across from her, biting into a bagel.

"So what does your husband do, if you don't mind me asking, that would qualify him as being a mob boss?"

She hemmed and hawed, "A little bit of everything... We own a shop, an antiquities and pawnbroker...the smell reminds me of it," she gestured towards the bookshelves, "He owns a good majority of the land, and the buildings, and also has a degree in law. His fingerprints are in every aspect of Storybrooke, whether it's for good or evil."

Ben's forehead creased, "You think he uses his influence for evil?"

"Maybe evil's too strong of a word...shady things at the worst," she amended, shrugging, "He's just not a very people person... Lacks empathy when it comes to contracts."

Ben's mind went to the day he was to go into the army, the look in the captain's eyes, "...some people don't have a lot of warmth to them."

Rose poked at her roll, "...it's strange, though. I mean, ever since the affair he's been so different...kind and compassionate, even..." She shook her head, "It's probably just the baby, though."

"Maybe he's been hiding his true self," Ben offered, before finishing up his bagel and going back towards the café.

Rose chewed on the thought a moment before turning back to the phone book, sipping at her tea.

It was several hours before they were alone again and she worked up the nerve to ask.

"What about you, Ben?"

He glanced up from rotating bakery stock, "What about me?"

She closed the phone book and turned to him, "You told me that it's just you and Sadie here, that she's all the family you have."

"Yeah?"

"So there has to be a story there," Rose said gently.

Ben sighed, closing the display case. He leaned on the counter, arms spread out, "Alright, story time. My mother died or left, it's not really clear which, when I was a young boy. I turned fourteen and I was separated from my father because he…" Ben caught himself, clamping his mouth shut, "…well, sometimes you control the substance and sometimes the substance controls you."

Rose bit her lip, "I'm sorry to hear that."

He bowed his head, "It's alright. My father might not have been Prince Charming…but he was a good man, in his own way."

Rose unconsciously slipped a hand into the binder, feeling for one of the last pages. The old parchment sketch felt rough under her fingertips.

"As one lost boy to another," she murmured, "Do you think it's worth trying to find him, or will he just resent his father?"

Ben didn't miss a beat.

"It all depends on the circumstances, and the boy. There needs to be time to grieve, to process the pain. It took me years to get to a place where I could accept him again," he shrugged, "Forgiveness is a long hard road."

Rose's forehead creased, "Have you ever tried to find your father?"

He didn't blink, "Every day since I forgave him."

**III**

Katja thought working for Rump would be more… Well, _interesting_. But the shop was dull as paint drying and the only "customers" she got were the kind looking to make a deal. No one actually bought the crap in here.

Right now she was in the back grinding pearls, a task as impossible as it sounded. If she wanted to play Igor to his Dr. Frankenstein, she would've stuck around the Dark Castle…

The bell attached to the front door rang and Katja bared her fangs at the mortar and pestle.

"If it's a Charming, go away!" She snapped. She didn't have time for that family's bullshit.

There was no response, only a whistled song that chilled Katja's bones. It wasn't any tune from around here, and it certainly wasn't from the Enchanted Forest. It was from Wonderland, and there weren't many Wonderlanders in Storybrooke.

Her first instinct was to run and hide but she couldn't do that, not after what she hit Grace with. So she screwed her courage to the sticking place and pulled the curtain back to enter the shop.

Jefferson stood pretending to look over a tea set, hands in his pockets and a scarf wrapped around his neck self-consciously. He had gone without the coat today oddly, wearing only the vest over his shirt. The only indication he gave of acknowledgement was tapering off the whistle, eyes flicking up towards the wall.

"Don't you think this is getting a bit ridiculous, Ches?" He asked, "Walking around acting like we don't know each other?"

"If you're still calling me "Ches" then you don't," Katja insisted, folding her arms.

"I can't help it," he murmured, "It's what Alice named you. It fits."

Katja hung her head, "…it was shitty of me to throw that at Grace and retreat," she admitted.

"It was," he agreed.

She couldn't help the next question that came out of her mouth, something that sounded embarrassingly close to a whimper, "Are you still mad at me?"

She watched his neck, but the scarf hid the tendon that jumped whenever Jefferson was mad but trying not to show it. He slowly turned to face Katja, meeting her eyes.

"I don't think I'll ever get over you using Alice's death to escape," he said honestly, "But I'm sure it's what she would have wanted… And the Queen of Hearts would have killed you or worse." He took a few hesitant steps forward, "What I can't forgive is you showing up on our doorstep all those years ago to tell me that my wife and Grace's mother was dead, then disappearing from our lives."

She glanced down at the floor, "…I figured you wouldn't want to see me anymore after what happened…"

She didn't realize he was so close until she felt fingertips gently touching her chin, tilting it up to face him. Katja felt stupid, but she kind of wanted to cry, looking up at Jefferson.

"I loved Alice…but I loved you too," he reminded her.

Katja's throat ached and all she wanted to do was close that little bit of distance, wrap her arms around Jefferson at long last. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, leaning down towards her.

It would be the easiest thing in the world to kiss her Mad Hatter, to surrender to him after so much fighting and just let him take her. But that same old stutter in her chest happened and she stepped back, away from him.

"I'm _fifteen_," Katja objected.

"Twenty-two."

"That doesn't matter here!"

Jefferson chuckled incredulously, "And you want to abide by _these_ laws?"

"Godsdammit don't you laugh!" She hissed, tempted to slash at his face, "Do you really think we could be anything in this town, with everyone's eyes on us, judging us?"

"Since when have you ever cared about other people's opinions?"

"Since Grace."

The name wiped the smirk off of Jefferson's face, and Katja took the opportunity to advance her case.

"How do you think Grace would feel if her dad started going out with someone only five years older than her? Our history doesn't matter. I failed Alice; I am _not_ going to fail her daughter."

Katja had gone for the throat, she sensed. Usually about this time Jefferson would be ripping into her as well but he was silent, those lovely eyes glaring at her.

"You hid behind Alice and now you hide behind Grace," Jefferson hissed, "I don't know why you feel the need to avoid me; I thought we made our feelings perfectly clear during the tea party."

"Doesn't mean we should act on them," Katja insisted.

Jefferson stared silently at her for a few moments, grinding his teeth. She wished he'd just scream at her already so they could have one of their normal fights, not this passive aggressive crap.

"You're a coward, Chessa," he muttered, then turned and walked away.

Mr. Gold was on his way to the shop, and was more than a little disturbed when he saw the Mad Hatter leaving. Jefferson didn't even seem to notice him as he brushed past, and Mr. Gold thought he might've seen those wild eyes go a little misty.

He entered the shop to see Katja near tears herself and he felt a fresh surge of rage move through him.

"What did he say? Did he hurt you?" He hissed.

"I hurt him," she snarled, "Again."

He relaxed, if only slightly, "…what exactly is your relationship with Jefferson?" He murmured.

Katja headed for the back room, hands clenched, "Let's just say you aren't the only one with a broken tea set."

**III**

Rose had compiled a list of all the names she thought might possibly lead to Baelfire; needless to say there were quite a few, even with the limited age range. She would have to start soon if she was going to get anything done before having the baby.

"Ben?" She called. There was no response, "Benjamin?"

Sadie trotted over instead. If she had been a person, she might've been rolling her eyes at her caretaker. She pointed her nose towards the back and Rose thanked her with a head rub.

Ben was in a leather chair in a corner surrounded by shelves of books. He was sitting in a position that looked uncomfortable to the normal person but to a reader looked perfectly natural, one leg over the arm of the chair, half reclined and looking about to fall out, both spread out and scrunched together. She smiled and instantly knew why he had not heeded her call; he was off in another world, deeply engrossed in a novel.

She carefully came up behind him and oh so gently touched his shoulder to bring him back to their world. Even then he started a bit, then gave her a crooked half-smile.

"Sorry," he mumbled, but Rose wasn't listening.

Seeing that smirk had sent a jolt through her, both to her heart and to her groin. She had no idea why her body was reacting so strongly to the expression and it was more than a little unnerving.

Ben sat upright, sticking his finger into the book as a temporary placeholder, "What's up?"

"Nothing, I was just…wondering…" She took a deep breath, ready to present her mini-speech, "I've been on the road for months, staying in nothing but chain hotels and lucky if I have a second conversation with the same person. I'm…homesick and here? It feels like home," she closed her eyes as if that would keep away his reaction, "What I'm asking is may I please continue to stay here-"

"Yes."

She opened her eyes to see him beaming at her.

"Stay for as long as you need."

"I can pay," she assured him and he snorted derisively.

"I don't want money. Money causes nothing but problems."

"But-"

"Hush. Your company's enough," he insisted before fumbling around for a bookmark. He slid it into place instead of his finger and set the book down.

It was nothing extremely thick though the cover was lovely, an illustration of barbed wire and roses.

"How many hours did it take you to get you that far?" She asked, nodding towards the almost-complete book if the marker was any indication.

He smirked, "Almost two. Think you could do better?"

"I'd have that thing finished if it were my two hours," she claimed.

"Now, now, you don't race through a good book unless it demands to be raced through," Ben insisted and Rose had to nod her agreement.

Ben took in the books surrounding them, giving a contented sigh.

"I don't think people in this century understand how lucky they are to be literate… I mean, in the Middle Ages only the highest societal members and monks knew how to read. Books were rare and handcrafted before the invention of the printing press... Now we're surrounded by them," he waved his hand and smiled, "Literacy is a gift, even if those in school believe otherwise."

"You speak as if you didn't go to school," she teased.

Ben frowned, "I didn't." He leaned heavily back against the seat, "I taught myself how to read… studied my butt off for a GED. I set up a business on my own and am now earning enough to live comfortably. Everything I have, I've worked for."

His words rang with pride, but there was something else in them. Something akin to longing.

"I'm sure your father's proud of you," Rose murmured.

Ben sighed, "Probably…but knowing that isn't the same as hearing him say those words to me in person, yanno?"

**III**

"Rumplestiltskin, I need you to come stop me from doing something really, really stupid."

It was never good when Katja called him by his full first name, or when her voice was that ragged with emotions. He started moving towards the front door.

"Where are you?"

"The town line."

Shit.

Thankfully the laughable excuse for law enforcement wasn't in his path to slow him from racing towards the town line. Headlights fell upon a frantically pacing werecat, twisting each time she came to the edge of the road and turning violently back to stalk towards the other side. Her posture was exactly that of a threatened cat ready to lunge. At least as he barreled out of the car he saw that she was on the Storybrooke side of the line.

"Katja!" He snapped. She slowed, but didn't stop, teeth bared at the neon orange line.

"It's really pissing me off!" She shouted, "This goddamn barrier keeping us all here, like fucking animals in a cage! I just wanna _leave_, get away from this hellhole-"

"Katja."

"But if I cross then I become that punk-ass bitch Kit again!"

"Katja…"

Mr. Gold's fingers encircled her wrist as he caught up to her. Her head whipped towards him, eyes desperate and pleading. Her shoulders jerked as she tried to hold back tears.

"What are you running from?" He asked as gently as he could muster.

"Jefferson."

"Not who, dearie. What," he murmured, "Both of us know you could string his guts up on the telephone wires if you really felt threatened."

Mr. Gold felt her tremble underneath his fingers, see it on her lips. Actual fear, something that seemed out of place on Katja's usually cocky face.

"…I think Jefferson's my true love," she whimpered.

He had no time to react before the thoughts that had been plaguing Katja since the first inklings of attraction had appeared all those years ago came pouring out.

"I can't fall in love; falling in love means I die if anything happens to him. I don't want to die, Rump," Her voice cracked, "I've been doing everything I can to stay away, to keep from giving in…but now I'm trapped," she gestured towards the line, "Trapped and I don't know how much longer I can fight. I used Alice; I'm trying to use Grace…"

He saw a glimpse of something in her other hand, something that looked almost like the spout of a tea pot. _Let's just say you aren't the only one with a broken tea set._

"Love is the most common form of insanity. It drives us mad, rots our brains out… And where does it lead us? To pain," she tore her wrist from his grasp and took a step back, "I mean look at what happened to you!" She waved at him, "First month or so you could barely get out of bed! Your wife is carrying a child that you two have _dreamed_ about, but she has some messed-up version of your relationship in her head, and cherry on top, doubts you! You've been spending every waking moment either thinking of how to win her back or how to recover her memories, trapped like that goddamn mama elephant in that kid's movie that only wants to hold her baby! And there's no guarantee that she's coming back! She could be gone _forever_, just because you wanted her safe from the psychos who'd take their anger out on her!" Katja snorted, "I mean, why the hell would you risk everything for some disease that ends with you being alone and suffering?!"

Mr. Gold's knuckles were white against the gold of his cane's handle, jaw clenched.

"Because it's worth it," he hissed, "Because for every year of pain there's five minutes of happiness so incredible that you'd go through the very fires of hell just to relive it. And you're right; Belle may never come back to me, or regain her memories, and she may be lost to me forever. But even knowing that's how our story ends… I would do everything all over again, suffering and all. Because true love is the only thing that makes a life lived instead of survived."

He wasn't entirely sure where these words had come from; the dominant part of his mind would never bow to the thought that Belle was beyond restoring. But he did know that he meant them, even though there was a time he wouldn't have bat an eyelash over choosing his power over a woman. True love was, after all, the most powerful magic of all.

Jefferson hated to see his Grace upset, especially knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. To think that she would continue to suffer despite his efforts to the contrary… It made him so miserably human.

She was on the couch in the living room, trying to do her homework but mostly spacing out. He tried to smile.

"I know it all seems tedious, to do so many math problems, but practice is the best way to learn," he said, sitting down beside her.

Grace stared at the blank page.

"Is it wrong that I don't care whether or not Katja had anything to do with my mother's death?" She asked.

Jefferson frowned, "I think you would care a little…"

"Not enough to push her away," she sighed, sliding her homework to the side, "I miss her, Papa… I don't know why she insists on being so distant."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

"Werecats…well they're funny things," he tried to explain, "They don't like to be tied down, but they also crave affection. It's hard to say why they do what they do sometimes… But they have their reasons."

There was a rapid two-beat knock at the door and they both glanced up. Grace slipped out from under her father's arm and Jefferson followed her to the door.

The girl in question stood on the porch, hands shoved so deep in her pockets it was like she was trying to disappear into them. Jefferson tensed and though she appeared to want to speak, Grace was silent. Katja met her eyes timidly.

"My real name's Katja, and I mostly go by Puss in Boots, but I have another set of names," she scuffed the toe of her boot, "I was in Wonderland looking for a way to a world without magic when I met this girl a couple years younger than me. She told me her name was Alice Kingsley and asked me what my name was. I didn't give her one," she took a deep breath, "So she called me the Cheshire Cat because of how much I smile… Chessa or Ches for short. Your mother, your father, and I were inseparable…until the Queen of Hearts captured me and Alice."

She swallowed roughly, but still sounded as if she were drowning, "I see your mom's death all the time, over and over again, and I think about all the ways I could have tried to save her… But nothing will change. The Queen of Hearts killed Alice." She shifted from looking at Grace to looking at Jefferson, "And I'm sorry I didn't stop her."

Grace stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Katja. Katja had already decided she had reached her tear limit for the night so she didn't cry, holding Alice's spitting image like she had held Alice herself (only it was Alice who needed comforting then, not Katja).

"Why are you so young, then?" Grace asked.

Katja chortled, "World-hopping can really screw with your age."

Grace let go once she was sure that Katja was alright.

"Dinner's just about ready," Jefferson said, "You're never not hungry, so you can have some with us if you want."

Katja gave a tiny half-smile, "I'd like that."

"I'll set another place," Grace chirped, then darted back inside.

Jefferson and Katja stood awkwardly, he waiting in silence as she formulated her words.

"I'm not saying I'm sorry," she stated bluntly, "I'm not asking your forgiveness or saying you're right. What I am saying is I ain't going back to that place in my heart for three years. Once I'm eighteen, and if Grace isn't freaked out…" She shrugged, "We'll see what happens."

"I'm not a patient man," he reminded her, "Right or wrong I fell in love with the woman you will become, and I can't separate her from you as you are now."

"Pedo," Katja teased.

Jefferson shrugged, "You're twenty-two."

She brushed past him to go inside, fighting back the despair of how long _three fucking years_ would be.

"Grace never finds out about the tea party," she added.

"Never," he agreed and they went to go join Grace at the dining room table.

Jefferson the Mad Hatter had waited nearly thirty years for his daughter. He could manage to wait a couple more years for his true love.

**III**

"…so that wasn't fun," Mr. Gold concluded.

"I still don't see why you didn't let Kit leave," Rose murmured, "If she's upset about her love life she might need to go somewhere else and cool off. It's hard not to bump into people in Storybrooke."

Mr. Gold fell into silence and Rose knew what it said. It said that she knew why no one could leave Storybrooke, he had told her the reason…but having an answer required her to believe his story. She wasn't sure if she wanted to believe in a fairy tale or not yet.

She felt something shift within her, as if it were stretching. She smiled down at her stomach.

"Are you waking up for Daddy?" She asked. It shifted again.

Rose smiled, fingers going to the mouse, "Hang on," she told Mr. Gold, "Let me turn up the sound…"

There was something endearingly cute about Mr. Gold's expression, hopeful but hesitant to confirm what she was talking about.

"Say something," Rose urged.

Mr. Gold turned up his own sound and leaned towards the built-in microphone, "Bella… Bella dearie… Can you hear me? This is Daddy…"

Rose beamed as the life inside of her continued to move in response. There were moments of weakness where Rose considered vanishing, or telling him that she had miscarried so she wouldn't have to share her first born with her bastard of a husband. But the happiness in his eyes, the passion and reverence in his voice as he spoke of their Bella… She couldn't hurt him like that.

Maybe that was why she had agreed to the name that was so much like that other woman's…to make him happy. Maybe once he had his children he would finally let her go, allow her to find her own happiness away from a cheating husband.

And yet maybe the reason she didn't vanish was this invisible tether, this story that he had told her. Maybe a part of her actually believed she was a cursed version of Belle.

"She's always loved the sound of your voice," Rose told him. He gave her a crooked half-smile, one that sent a jolt straight to her heart and groin.

Rose lost her breath and Mr. Gold frowned.

"Dearie…?" He urged.

"Do it again."

"Do what again?"

"That smirk."

Mr. Gold tried his best to mimic the expression. "What is it?" He asked.

Rose shook her head, "I don't know," she confessed, "It just…reminds me of someone."

Mr. Gold seared the expression into the front of his memory, determined to make it whenever the occasion even vaguely called for it.

It wasn't eavesdropping, Ben insisted to himself. He had only gone to the door of the guest room to see why Sadie was so intently listening to it. It only counted as eavesdropping if someone acted on what they heard.

"…please come home, Rose." A male voice pleaded, a Scottish brogue slightly scratchy from the technology, "Just a couple of weeks off so you can rest up before and after the baby. It tears me apart to think of you alone during childbirth…"

"I'll be fine," Rose said flippantly, disregarding the ache behind his words, "Taking a few weeks off may be the difference between finding your son or not."

"If he's been running it won't make a difference. Rose please, I don't want to miss the birth of our daughter-"

"You should have thought about these things before you sent me off on this little quest," she growled, "I _will not_ come home until I find Baelfire, and that's final."

The name sent Ben reeling backwards, pinning him against the wall. His legs threatened to buckle and he was gasping for air like a half-drowned sailor. The man's voice now sounded familiar, a voice he had automatically dismissed after years of hopeful listening to strangers.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. His stepmother was in that room, carrying his half sister and speaking to his father who was in the same world, even if he was twenty five hundred miles away.

And he had heard his true name spoken for the first time in eight years.

**IIIII**

So pretty much Ben is out of my hands; I keep trying to use my outline but he's quite pushy about when and what scenes happen. Like a male prima donna. Also, apparently Baelfire isn't a bookstore owner with a crippled dog named Sadie…_go figure_.

Speaking of apologizing for characters running out of my hands…Katja. Doesn't matter how I explained it, I still felt uncomfortable writing it knowing how much it dabbled in taboo. Please forgive me; pedophilia is sick and wrong and I would never condone it.

Next time: Ben's room. Bedtime stories with Rose. And we check in with Regina and that whole made-for-a-Jerry-Springer-episode family.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own Katja...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

Sadie got up and whined, pressing her nose against Ben's leg. He mechanically pet her as he tried to somehow organize his thoughts.

"I'll be back, girl," he promised, making his way to the elevator. Sadie whined again, but stayed put.

Ben had no clue where he was going, but he couldn't stay enclosed, couldn't stay still as every conversation he had ever had with Rose went through his mind anew. Her husband (_Gold_, he distinctly remembered her saying her last name was _Gold_) was looking for his son from a previous marriage. She had no definite location on him. There was a mark of magic on her arm. If Baelfire wasn't a unique name, then it was at the least extremely rare.

It was too much for coincidence, even if Ben believed in coincidences.

His father was in this world, in Storybrooke, Maine. He ran a store, had a law degree, and owned property. He had remarried and now had a new baby on the way. And he was looking for him.

Ben pressed his back against a brick building, unable to keep the tears back any longer. His fingers knotted in his hair as he sobbed, slowly sinking down into a crouch.

His papa was looking for him.

His papa was trying to find him.

But how was he here?! And why was Rose the one out looking?! Why wasn't his father the one going from city to city, so that when he was found they would meet face to face?!

Was he really so cowardly that he'd rather send a perfect stranger after his son than go himself?

Rose had just finished her story when she heard a knock at her door.

"Yes?"

"May I come in?"

"Sure." Rose set the book aside.

Ben opened the door and sniffed, his nose as red as his bloodshot eyes. Rose furrowed her eyebrows.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just went for a run," he insisted, wiping his nose with his shirt sleeve. Rose didn't point out the fact that it was just past ten o'clock, an odd time to be running.

He shifted, "I was just wondering, since you've been talking about this mysterious stepson, if you knew his name?"

Rose smirked, "It's one of the few things I do know about him," she rolled her eyes, "I swear my husband was drunk when he came up with the name…"

Ben tried to laugh, "That bad?"

"Not bad… I just imagined the kid was picked on for it," she sat a little straighter, reaching towards the table beside her bed, "His name's Baelfire but he's probably going by a pseudonym."

Like Ben, he thought wryly.

"Dark hair, brown eyes, younger than I am but at least fourteen… Honestly, how does the man not know how old his son is?" She shook her head.

Because who knows how much time has passed in our world compared to this one, Ben responded mentally.

She opened the binder he had seen her glancing through at the café table, flipping to the back. An old piece of parchment rested there, a sketch of a young boy gazing up at him. Ben felt as if he were looking at a reflection of his past.

"This is the only picture he has of Bae," she said, "Apparently his mother was an artist."

It would do no good to start crying in front of Rose; he couldn't tell if she was acting or not. If she suspected he was Baelfire, she was doing a dang good job of hiding it.

What _was_ her role in all this? How much had Rumplestiltskin told her?

"That's not a lot to go on," Ben sympathized.

Rose sighed, "No, it isn't… I mean the beetle's been working well ever since…" She trailed off, glancing nervously at Ben.

He had the good sense not to ask about the beetle. He was sure all he'd get was a "nothing" or a "never mind", and pressuring wouldn't force a woman like her to answer.

"So when do you think you'll be ready to do the physical searching? Or do you not do that?"

Rose smirked, "I've stalked a few potential Baes, but there's always been something wrong, one checkmark that doesn't go through. Probably in a couple of days, if the little one's amenable," she patted her stomach.

Ben lowered his gaze, "Well if you want, I could help you. I mean, I know Seattle fairly well… And company's always nice."

She shook her head, "I'd love to have company, but your store… Playing detective is quite time-consuming."

Ben grinned, "That's the perks of being your own boss; choosing your hours."

He didn't like the thought of Rose approaching strangers thinking they were who she was looking for. And maybe he could learn more about how his father was doing, if the separation had taught him anything.

**III**

Mr. Gold barely had the warning of a door opening and closing before his cohort in romantic affairs blurted out his latest idea.

"Skywriter! Have you done a skywriter yet?!"

He glanced up to see Henry Mills, the boy now completely at ease with using the back door to enter the shop. Mr. Gold arched an eyebrow.

"Let's not scare the poor woman now… It's a bit too grandiose for us."

"But we've _done_ everything else," Henry insisted, playing with his jacket's pockets, "Flowers, books, chocolates, romantic dinners, song dedications, breakfast in bed, notes, bad poems-"

"That was a beautiful poem, even if it didn't rhyme."

"It was twenty pages and it was super mushy."

Mr. Gold wasn't sure he should be taking advice from an eleven year old boy; he had no experience with courting a lady and therefore could not judge how a poem would go over with one. The verse had come from the heart and he was sure that Belle appreciated it, even if Rose might've thrown it in the trash.

Henry sighed, leaning against his desk, "We've been doing this for months… Shouldn't she be convinced that she needs to come back by now?"

"These sorts of things don't happen overnight," he chided lightly, "Remember how long it took you to convince Emma of the curse?"

The boy frowned, eyes downcast, "…I just want her back," he murmured.

"I do too," he assured him, "But Belle's deep in the thralls of a curse, a curse that has convinced her she has to do something before she can return to Storybrooke."

"So she has to complete a quest before she's ready to come home?" Henry rephrased.

"Either that or she somehow regains her memories," Mr. Gold leaned back in his chair, "I think the book has really helped her. Thank you for that."

Henry shrugged modestly, "She gave it to me when I needed it… It only made sense to give it to her when she needed it."

There was a low growl coming from the front desk. Mr. Gold scowled and got to his feet, grabbing his cane. Henry glanced at the curtain worriedly.

"What's wrong with Figaro?" He asked.

"There are two things in this world that makes that cat mad; dogs and Regina."

"Rumplestiltskin!" The front door slammed shut. Henry whimpered and Mr. Gold motioned towards the space under his desk before he went to go face the proverbial dragon.

Henry curled up under the desk, glad that he had had the courage to offer to help Mr. Gold with Belle's problem. He wasn't so scary once someone got to know him…and if they managed to get past his beastly mask.

Mr. Gold emerged to see the cat holding Regina back, looking almost vicious with his fur on end and lips curled back. He stroked the little guard cat to reassure him it was alright and the feline slowly calmed down, continuing to glare at the former queen.

"Where's Henry?" Regina asked bluntly.

It was too good of an opportunity to resist.

"I gave him to you eleven years ago," he reminded her, "Surely you haven't misplaced him since then?" He couldn't help but smirk at his own joke.

"You seem to be in a good mood, Rumple," Regina remarked dryly, "Those seem to be quite rare since your wife left you."

He did not take the bait, even though inwardly he was throttling her to within an inch of her life.

"Have you tried the biological mother? Rumor has it he's living with her."

"Yes, her and the two idiots," she snapped, "All in that tiny apartment. But none of them have seen him since they dropped him off at school."

He sighed, "Katja has the day off so if you're looking for a bloodhound…"

Regina shook her head dismissively, "I'm not about to ask anything of that little devil… But apparently he's been spending a substantial amount of time with _you_ lately." Her eyes narrowed and Mr. Gold barely kept himself from laughing.

He spent maybe a handful of hours a week with Henry…and Regina was jealous of even that minimal amount. He supposed it was quite a switch from single mother to part-time parental figure.

"So you want to know if he's here?" Regina shot him a "what do you think idiot" glare and he motioned around the shop, "As you can plainly see, he isn't in the shop."

"Apparently not," Regina muttered.

She turned and he thought she was going to leave, but she remained only halfway rotated.

"…has it ever occurred to you to send Miss Swan out after your wife?" She asked mildly.

Coils of desire twisted and writhed in his gut like a pit of vipers. He swallowed before replying as calmly as he could muster.

"Yes, it has."

"She still owes you a favor, you know."

"I don't need a reminder."

"It looked like it to me."

Did Regina think she was clever, or that he was just stupid? Did she honestly think he'd waste his favor on helping her get rid of Emma? But as usual the idea was tempting…oh so tempting, especially with less than two weeks to go until Bella's due date.

"He's not here," Mr. Gold half-truthed. "Here" was relative after all.

Regina gave a final sneer, then left him in peace.

It wasn't long after that the curtain was pulled back and Henry emerged, eyes filled with concern.

"If you don't want to be found, I suggest you don't come out in plain sight," Mr. Gold said.

Henry continued to stare until Mr. Gold was almost uncomfortable.

"Maybe I _should _ask my mom…" He said slowly, "I'm sure she wouldn't mind a road trip. I could even go with her."

Mr. Gold smiled sadly, "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Henry. Belle will put up a fight and I'm not sure either of you will have the magic words to persuade her to return," he glanced down, "The last thing I need is for her to have another reason to resent me."

Henry opened his mouth to argue, but realized there was nothing to argue about. Curses were so stupid…

"I can understand wanting to get away from the drama," Mr. Gold spoke up, "So if you ever need somewhere to hide out for a bit, my door is always open."

The young boy smiled up at the ancient Dark One, "Thanks, Mr. Gold."

Mr. Gold wasn't sure what kept citizens of Storybrooke calling each other by their cursed names, whether it was force of habit or believing that they were separate identities. In his case, it was probably the fact that "Mr. Gold" was a lot quicker and easier to say than "Rumplestiltskin".

**III**

Ben appreciated the busyness of the next morning, having something to focus on rather than the giant mystery crashing on his spare bed. He had so many questions, and no idea how to ask any of them, or if he should. He didn't know anything about what had happened since he slipped through the portal…and the state his father had been in when he left wasn't too promising. But he was married with a kid, so how bad could it be?

After the breakfast rush he took a cinnamon roll and some tea up to the spare bedroom, knocking.

"Rose?"

There was no response.

"Rose…?" Against his better manners, he opened the door.

She wasn't there. The binder was on the table so she hadn't left, but she was not in the room. He whistled but since he didn't hear Sadie hobbling over, he figured she was downstairs.

He found Sadie resting beside a stepladder, on which stood Rose with a rag polishing some old antiques that he had set on a display shelf.

"What are you doing?" He asked, trying not to laugh.

"Dusting, obviously," Rose said, "If the inch or so I've wiped off is any indication, it's been awhile."

"But why?"

"Because…" She set down the item she had been cleaning, "…you refuse to let me pay, and I am a woman who likes to earn her keep."

"How many times do I have to tell you your company is payment enough?" He sighed, folding his arms, "What if you fell off that ladder, hmmm?"

"Then Sadie would save me, wouldn't you girl?"

Sadie's tail thudded against the floorboards before she shot her master a glare, as if he were questioning her ability to be a good watch dog.

"Besides, if you want to help me find Bae, then I have to wait around for you, and I have a tendency of getting restless." She held out her hand and he hurried over, taking it. He steadied her as she gingerly descended each step.

"Maybe I should just give you a stack of books," he mused and she smirked.

"Honestly I'm hoping a little activity will encourage this one to come a few days early."

She stood on the floor now, but neither he nor she made a move to let go of their grip. Ben watched her eyes, so bright and eager. She smiled softly at him.

"If there's anywhere you don't want me poking around, tell me now or forever hold your peace," she said. He smirked.

"Nah, I've got nothing to hide from you."

The last two words made them both a little uncomfortable and she let go of his hand, clearing her throat. He had meant the specification though he supposed it did sound a little awkward, seeing how he hadn't announced that he was indeed the Baelfire they were looking for.

Nor did he particularly want to, to be honest. Not until he was sure what was going on.

He had to admit it was nice, though, hearing a gentle hum in the background instead of just the radio, the clatter of washing dishes behind him as he organized the café. And it was an excellent surprise when he came back after taking Sadie out for a casual stroll (they were too slow and short to call them "walks", but Sadie didn't like to miss them nonetheless) to find dinner on the table.

"It's not much," Rose apologized unnecessarily as Ben grinned at the spread of macaroni and cheese and cooked broccoli, "I don't really know what you like…"

"This is awesome, thank you Rose." He raised his eyebrows, "Are those cut-up hot dogs in that dish?"

Rose blushed, "It's a quirk of mine to put them on mac and cheese."

"I think it's brilliant," Ben gushed, taking a seat. Sadie situated herself at their feet, carefully calculating who would be the most likely to share with her.

He was pretty sure it was the same boxed stuff he made himself when he wasn't too tired, but there was something about it that tasted freaking fantastic. Maybe because he wasn't having a relatively home-cooked meal alone for once.

It had originally been about earning her keep, but now there was another element to helping Ben out. The way he seemed a little less burdened as he went about his work, how he tended to gravitate towards wherever she found a chore, and especially the huge grin on his face at an unexpected surprise. She had never seen any other worker in the store and Ben never mentioned having another employee; from what she could tell he didn't go out often. The poor boy was probably lonely… Anyone would be lonely being on their own so often, even if it was a choice.

She hesitated at his bedroom door, basket on her hip. She had no qualms about cleaning his office, or anywhere downstairs, but his bedroom… It was too personal. She knocked lightly.

"Come on in, Rose," he called, and she opened the door.

She had expected a mess, but nothing like this. She had thought his room would be similar to the guest room/storage room, a mess of things that vaguely seemed like something Ben would have. But there wasn't too much stuff, most things put away with only a sock or two lying around. But every available surface, from the walls to the sides of the bookshelf to the closet doors to his lampshades, were covered with notes, drawings, and diagrams.

Ben glanced up from where he was sprawled out on his bed, book in hand. He noticed Rose staring, trying to take in the vast amount of information.

"…by the way, I have a sort of…fixation," he said slowly.

Rose set down the laundry basket she was holding and moved closer, examining some of the pictures. They were of a small man, usually with grotesque features, mostly shown near large piles of straw or a spinning wheel. Occasionally there was a young woman in the picture, or he was seen before a queen, or even a few of him throwing a tantrum. The notes covered everything from etymology to origins to variations to connections with other fairy tales, such as "Sleeping Beauty".

"…it's all about Rumpelstiltskin," she murmured. Ben marked his place, then rolled off of the bed and onto his feet.

"Yeah," he agreed, holding his breath.

Now. Now was the time that Rose would admit that the real Rumplestiltskin wasn't any of these versions, that even though it sounded crazy she was married to the real one and that she was looking for his son Baelfire and he could reveal in a grand fashion that he was indeed Baelfire and he had so many questions to ask her…

But Rose didn't say anything to that effect. She looked…confused. Longing. Frustrated and anxious. She turned to him.

"The one who spun straw into gold, right?"

Ben smirked, "That's what the Grimm Brothers claim, anyway," he glanced at one of the illustrations, a caricature that over exaggerated his nose and small stature, "It's fascinating how many similar stories there are… Tom Tit Tot of England, Whuppity Stoorie of Scotland, a version from Iceland and Hungary and Russia and South America. The guy got around, whether they accused him of stealing babies or just causing mischief."

"But it's just the Brothers Grimm version that's well-known," Rose added.

Ben nodded, "Might be for good reason, might not be. It could just be because of their fame that their version of the story is the standard… Certainly interesting enough, a not-quite man helping a miller's daughter cover up her father's lie in exchange for the promise of her firstborn."

"But she goes back on the deal," Rose muttered.

He shook his head, "Maybe, but it's his choice to make a new deal to see if she could guess his name. Not her fault he was dancing around singing it," he frowned, "…in some endings when he loses the firstborn, he's so enraged that he tears himself in half. Others…he's swallowed up by the earth, never to return."

Rose started to move towards the bookcase, examining its contents. Movies and books cluttered the shelves, ranging from a B horror movie to an installment of a popular children's franchise, from "Children's and Household Tales" to "The Rumpelstiltskin Problem". Ben was starting to feel nervous; Rose's face had gone expressionless as she stared at the titles.

"…why this fairytale?" She finally asked, "Out of all the stories in the world, why is this the one that resonates with you?"

Ben liked the question; it wasn't condemning or shocked, just merely curious. He was tempted to say that it was because it was his father's story and he was certain that somewhere amongst all the stories of this world, one would give him the answers he so desperately desired.

"He intrigues me," Ben finally answered, "A creature that appears and disappears on a whim, helping or hurting, it never being quite clear which side he's on. For all we know he was going to raise that child as his own and give it a wonderful life," he sighed, "Most stories don't try and figure out how he came to be the way he is; he's just that way and we're just supposed to accept it… And the power of names, well, Rumplestiltskin knows that all too well."

Rose reached up to stroke "The Rumpelstiltskin Problem"'s binding and for a moment it was just silence.

"…I always spell it wrong," she confessed, "I always switch the "e" and the "l" on accident."

Simple words, but Ben felt a lump in his throat at them. He backed away, running a finger through his hair.

"Another thing, why does he want to take people's babies? I mean what does he do, skin their pelts?"

Rose smiled, "I always liked to imagine he traded them to families who couldn't have their own…for a price, of course. Supply and demand."

Ben rolled his eyes, "A black market baby trader?"

She smirked, "I've heard of stranger things," she tilted her head to one side, "There's something I want to show you tonight… Something I think you'd be interested in."

Ben tried not to get his hopes up, "Alright, sounds good."

Rose picked up the laundry basket and started shoveling his dirty clothes into it. She looked contemplative, and he hoped that seeing his obsession wouldn't scare her off.

**III**

There were upsides and downsides to having Katja help out. Upside he had more time to focus on Belle…downside it meant the Charmings and Regina were prone to house calls. He should consider moving, or finding a nice forbidden fortress to hole up in.

There was a sharp rap at his shed's door and then an impatient "Gold!". Mr. Gold sighed and set down the set of photographs before making his way to the door. Even Regina rarely came after him at home, but it seemed that the whole "savior" thing had made Miss Swan even more presumptuous than before. A part of him respected her lack of fear of the Dark One…though mostly he resented it.

He opened the door not to find an irritated sheriff looking for a scapegoat, but a terrified young woman looking for help.

"I need to talk to you about the contract you have with Regina," she blurted out.

Mr. Gold blinked, "I've made several; she's one of my best customers."

"But only one for a newborn," she murmured.

Of course. What other deal would Emma care about besides the one that involved her son?

"The contract's upstairs," he flicked his eyes up towards the house, "What specifically did you want to know?"

"If there are any loopholes that Regina could use to get Henry." There was a tremor to her voice, an unmistakable fear of losing a son.

Mr. Gold met her gaze solidly, "The biggest obstacle is the one you yourself put in place. You closed the adoption, and only a court order will unseal it."

"We don't have a court system in Storybrooke! We're lucky we have jail cells!" Emma's voice cracked, "Things have changed since I gave him up; I've gotten to know him, and I found out the Evil Queen's his adopted mother and step-great-grandmother!"

"He's been living with you though, hasn't he?"

"That doesn't mean she's not gonna turn to you to try and find some way around it."

And here he thought they had dissolved into anarchy and lawlessness.

"You can't stand here and tell me you'd help her after everything that's happened?" She hissed.

"I have no intention of involving myself period," he stated, "I'd like to think I'm smarter than to get between a mother bear and her cub, nonetheless two mothers. Henry's old enough to make his own decisions."

"And what if other people try to make the decision for him?" Emma countered.

Mr. Gold glared at her, "Then I'd tell them to grow up, for his sake at least."

He felt for the young prince, he truly did… But his involvement would only make things worse. If one of them truly lost their minds (he was leaning towards Regina) he would intervene, but there was nothing to be gained from choosing between his former apprentice and the savior.

The battle did not leave him alone, however. The very next day he made the fatal error of being sidetracked by a display of stuffed animals. Of course there were plenty in the nursery but still… He couldn't help but wonder her preferences. A floppy eared dog? A not-so-terrifying tiger? A cute baby bunny softer than the real thing? These questions reminded him that this child that was coming was an utter mystery; to himself, to her mother, even to herself. Bella was a prophecy not yet tol-

"And what sinister purpose do you have for those toys, hmm?"

Mr. Gold grimaced, then straightened to find Regina watching him with an air of amusement. He smirked.

"Just looking, no sinister purposes included."

Regina looked disbelieving, but didn't question him further. It was brief moments like this that he was glad Belle was gone, safe from ill intentions, no one but Katja aware of Belle's pregnancy and no one but himself aware of her mission. In his heart of hearts he'd prefer she lose her memories than be manipulated due to her delicate condition.

Not having his little angel to counteract the devil on his shoulder also made it easier to stay out of the constant chaos that followed the Charming family like a cloud.

"I want to speak with you about Henry's adoption."

"A popular subject these days," he remarked, turning towards the former queen.

The grocery store probably wasn't the best place for this discussion, but it wasn't as though Regina desired discretion. He leaned on his cane, shifting the bags of groceries in his hands.

"Will the adoption contract hold up?"

He did a double take. The menace had left her tone; all that was left was earnestness, something that bordered on madness, clinging to the shreds she had of her child. He was looking into a mirror.

"Doesn't matter," he said honestly, "This town does not go by the rules of this world, no matter what Miss Swan preaches. That contract is unfortunately void."

She took a step closer, shoulders caving in.

"A new deal, then… One where I get to keep my son."

Mr. Gold didn't have the heart for anything mildly biting, not when she was so desperate he could practically smell it. He frowned, speaking softly.

"It's out of your hands, Regina. It's out of Emma's. The only one to decide who he wants in his life…is Henry himself." He moved around her, making his way towards the automatic doors, "He was old enough to bring the savior here and help break the curse, old enough to sacrifice himself for the good of all… I think he deserves a choice as to which mother he wants to live with."

Making his way to the car, Mr. Gold felt sick to his stomach. Baelfire had that choice now, either to have his father in his life or not. And there was nothing he could do about it if his son didn't want him.

**III**

"Come on, Ben, it's bedtime."

There were a few phrases Bae was sure he'd never hear again once he was on his own, and being told to go to bed was one of them.

He glanced up from his computer to stare at Rose, who was leaning impatiently against the doorway of his study. She was already in her nightgown and appeared pretty dang serious about what she said. Ben looked her up and down, stalling as he tried to figure out how to react.

"…five more minutes?" He pressed.

Rose rolled her eyes, "Fine, five more minutes. Then I expect you in my bed." Without further explaining the comment, she walked away.

Ben was not sure how to file this in his brain. He was pretty sure it was innocent, but one could never tell in this day and age. He went to change into his jammies; an old t-shirt and some flannel bottoms.

Rose was already tucked underneath the covers when he entered, a large brown book on her lap. She patted the spot next to her and Sadie tried to jump up. Ben and Rose laughed, and he helped the poor collie up onto the bed.

"Every night before I go to sleep, I read Bella a bedtime story out of this book," she explained, Sadie wriggling up against her and Ben getting situated on the other side, "Rumplestiltskin is all over the place in here, so I thought you might want to take a look."

Ben rested against the headboard as she showed him the cover, gold letterings declaring it to be called "Once Upon a Time". He furrowed his eyebrows; he'd never heard of this one.

"Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, some boy in the children's group I volunteer for sent it to me, said it might "help"," she shrugged, "Bella seems to enjoy it. We've been through it a couple of times already and you are just in time for the second half of Snow White's story."

Ben arched an eyebrow, "Her story's that long?"

"None of these are the traditional tellings," she started flipping through the pages, "All of these fables are tied together in odd ways; for instance Red Riding Hood and Snow White are best friends, and Rumplestiltskin is also the Beast from "Beauty and the Beast"."

Ben grinned, "Really?" He didn't remember his dad being _that_ ugly… Just a little lizard-y.

Rose frowned, looking a little disturbed, "…really…"

Before he could ask more about his father's gallivanting through folklore, she opened to a page of Snow White and Prince Charming holding on to each other, looking particularly frightened.

" "I do," Prince Charming said as he gazed into his true love's eyes, feeling like the luckiest man in all the realms. Surely nothing could spoil his beautiful Snow's smile as they stood before family, friends, and subjects, declaring their vows to each other. Truly she was the fairest in the land…"

Ben glanced down as Rose's stomach seemed to clench in a laugh, though he could plainly hear she wasn't. He watched in the dim light of the nightstand's lamp as his little sister shifted around in her mother's womb, as though getting comfortable for the story.

He listened and examined the pictures as Rose recounted the tale of the Evil Queen's revenge, a dark curse that would take them to a place where only the Evil Queen would live happily ever after. Rumplestiltskin was briefly mentioned as the Evil Queen's co-conspirator, trapped in the dungeons and half-mad from his imprisonment. Ben didn't like the thought of his father helping to create some dark curse dooming the entire realm, but he couldn't help but be relieved that he hadn't cast it himself.

" "Snow stroked her pregnant stomach thoughtfully, standing on the balcony of their daughter's nursery. The Evil Queen's words haunted and terrified her; a woman who had poisoned her own stepdaughter wouldn't bat an eyelash at hurting their infant. She feared for her daughter's life, and her husband's… She knew Charming would not agree with her decision, but it was final. There was only one person who could ease her mind, and it was-" "

Ben's eyes flicked around as if it would change, as if new pages would suddenly materialize. But Rose was already closing the book and setting it aside.

"That's it?" He fought back panic, "That's all there is? Where's the ending?"

She shrugged, "It's an old book…some pages are missing."

"Well don't you want to know how it ends, who Snow White goes and sees?"

Rose rubbed Sadie's ears, who was drawn into a half sleep at the hypnosis of the storytelling, "She goes and sees Rumplestiltskin, of course. He's the only one in the book who has precognition."

"But then what? Does the Evil Queen cast her spell? Do they learn how to stop her? And what about Snow's child?"

She giggled, "Calm down, Ben, it's just a story," she leaned back, "From what Henry told me, when they visit Rumplestiltskin they find out that Snow's daughter is going to save them all, returning to them on her twenty-eighth birthday. …I think her name was Ella or Emma or something… They send the daughter through a magical wardrobe to the land before the curse strikes, Prince Charming almost dies, there's a cyclone… And that's it."

"That's it?" Ben echoed.

Rose nodded, "Stories never promise to have satisfactory endings, they just promise to end," she smiled, "But at least it ends with hope, that in the future their daughter does come back for them." She rubbed her stomach lightly, the shifting ending as if the baby had fallen asleep, "What about you, huh? Are you going to grow up to be a savior and stop tyrannical dictators from stealing people's happiness, hmm?"

Bella gave no response.

Ben glanced at her side, "Is it alright if I borrow that book?"

"Sure," she handed it to him, "Fair warning though; Rumplestiltskin kind of looks like Edward Cullen and a crocodile's love child."

He laughed, "Consider me warned. Sleep tight, Rose."

"You too Ben," she reached out and smoothed down a stray lock of his hair, "When you do, anyway. I'm not really in charge of your bedtime."

"I won't stay up too late," he promised before scooting off the bed, "Come on, Sadie."

Sadie snorted in a clear dismissal of his command, quite comfortable curled up next to Rose thankyouverymuch. Ben rolled his eyes and left without her. Apparently all women were fickle beings, not just the human ones.

Ben went to his room and sat cross-legged on his bed, flipping carefully through the pages. The first time he saw his father he nearly crapped himself. The details weren't too well-done but he knew who it was. He wished he could erase every feature of the Dark One until it was just his father left, no curse rotting his brain out and causing him to look (as Rose so eloquently put) "like Edward Cullen and a crocodile's love child".

And then he turned to a picture of a young woman, her arms wrapped around an older nobleman's. She stayed partially hidden behind him, the pair of them staring at what Ben only saw the back of the head of. He leaned forward and squinted at the woman, long dark curls over pale skin. It was the eyes that sealed it for Ben, bright blue and unmistakable.

Rose was in the storybook as well.

He flipped through the story, seeing her transform from noblewoman to maid to prisoner, his father's face never clear but Ben knew it had to be him. He turned back to the first page and began devouring the story.

_There once was a girl with eyes like the sky and hair like brown silk. She was so beautiful that even her name meant "beauty", and her name was Belle…_

He read about the deal Rose made to save her village, could sense her lack of fear through the syntax. He followed along as his father considered her as little more than a caretaker of his castle (since when had he obtained a _castle_?), then as some sort of company, slowly coming to the realization that he had fallen for the beauty. Ben inwardly lashed out at the Evil Queen's intervention, feeling the pain as Regina told Rumplestiltskin that his true love was dead. Then the Mirror of all characters, swayed by the fair maiden's love for a beast, telling on his mistress.

And then he inwardly cheered as his father chose to take a leap of faith to rescue Rose, saving her like a goddamn knight. Gods he wished he had been able to see _that_.

_Too weak to stand on her own, the Beast gathered Belle up into his arms, holding her as close to him as he could. He walked home that night, and as he walked he told her every secret of his heart, finally allowing her to know him completely._

He felt a little silly, but he couldn't help himself. He cried. He cried because if this book held any truth to it (and he had the aching suspicion it did) then his father had risen about his cowardice yet again, going after Belle like Ben had dreamed he would come after him. He cried because if this didn't exaggerate too much then the woman in the next room was capable of being that same light that Bae had been, an anchor for the Dark One to hold on to his own humanity.

He cried because his father had fallen in love again, and clearly had not let go this time.

**III**

After spending most of the night pouring over "Once Upon a Time" (and breaking his promise to Rose about going to bed at a decent time), he decided that he was going to tell Rose who he was. He still didn't want to tell Rumplestiltskin yet, and he hoped she respected that, but he wanted for her to know at least that her searching could stop. She could tell him all about his father; let him know if he was a man again or if he was still the monster that killed without a second thought.

She was at her now usual table in the cafe, binder in front of her with some sketched-out routes. She glanced up and smiled at him.

"Morning Ben."

He grinned back, "Good morning…_Belle_," he said slyly.

The change was sudden and terrifying. The smile vanished and a fury ignited in her eyes. She scowled and he flinched.

"Don't. Ever. Say that name. Again," she snarled.

Ben's eyes widened, "…why?" He stuttered. Maybe saying it in public wasn't a smart idea, but Belle was a normal enough name…

Rose took a deep breath and slowly released it, "Because Belle is the slut who he cheated on me with."

**IIIII**

Even if Neal is Baelfire instead of Ben, I still couldn't resist some Grandpa!Gold spilling into this. Because it's just so cute how Mr. Gold has a soft spot for Henry.

And though I know it won't happen, I'm kind of wondering how Henry's "closed" adoption would be handled legally, since I'm super curious how a judge would rule. Granny wasn't kidding when she said Storybrooke had become a lawless town…

Next time: Ben takes a break from trying to figure out whether his father's learned his lesson to get to know his stepmother (while she continues questing for Bae, because she's just below David Nolan on the Stupidity While Cursed Chart). Gold gets protective of his werekitty.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own Katja...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

Evil twin. Doppleganger. Amnesia. Brainwashing. Ben's mind went through each and every sci-fi explanation for what on earth was happening, because he kept looking between the picture and Rose, and he was convinced that she _was_ Belle. There weren't a ton of things he was still positive he knew about his father after he became the Dark One, but he was dead certain that Rumplestiltskin would _never _cheat on his wife.

He didn't know how to ask questions about the book without sounding suspicious. "Excuse me, Rose, but could you please tell me who all of these characters are in this world, for curiosity's sake? And why is there a book of all your stories? And perhaps who this Henry kid is, and if it's not too much trouble could you tell me how my father's doing? Yes, the non-hairy beast who is also Rumplestiltskin, I'm Baelfire by the way."

"I have a few addresses I'd like to check out," Rose said shyly as she shelved some books for him, "If it's not too much trouble."

"Yeah, sure, we can head out in an hour," he said. The morning rush was over with, and stalking people trying to find himself was sure to be interesting.

An hour on the dot he started closing the bookstore, Rose watching him with an air of trepidation.

"What?" He finally asked.

"You aren't honestly going out without a coat on, are you?"

Ben shrugged, "It's not that cold out."

"You should put one on anyway, you'll catch a cold," she insisted.

"It's the Pacific Northwest, a cold's coming whether I catch it or not."

She shot him such a glare it caused him to wince and retreat back inside. He returned with a jacket on and she gave an approving nod, leading him towards the truck

"They seem to be all over the place," she said apologetically as she glanced over her list.

Ben shrugged, "So it's more like a field trip than an errand, then. Mind if I drive?"

Rose giggled, "Not at all."

He slid into the driver's seat and glanced at something on the dash. It might've been a regular dashboard decoration, a small orb suspended in some sort of bronze frame. A thick pile of ash coated the bottom and, settled on top of the ash, a small golden scarab. Rose followed his gaze and stared at the orb, horrified. She glanced at Ben as if he were suddenly a stranger again, wary and nervous.

"What is it?" He murmured.

"Nothing, I just forgot something…" She took a deep breath, steadying herself, "You know that first night, when I asked you if you believed that truth is stranger than fiction and you said "wholeheartedly"?" He nodded. "I need you to not freak out on me if I prove that fact. Please?"

After learning who she was and who her husband was, he doubted he'd be surprised by anything. He nodded reassuringly.

She motioned to the orb, "I've been following that across the country, in addition to the map. At first it only shuffled along but by the time I got here, it was practically beating itself against the glass," she bit her lip, "It persuaded me to go into "Spinner's Corner" for a pit stop."

Ben never thought he'd be so grateful for magic, "So how does it work?"

She glanced sideways at him, "This is the part where you don't turn me into the government for experimentation."

"I'm not going to turn you into the government, Rose," he promised gently.

Rose took a deep breath, then started rolling up her sleeve, exposing the mark on her arm. She held it facing up as slivers of dark purple started moving within the blackness. He wanted to watch her arm but she pointed at the orb. The golden scarab had started shuffling around, moving through the ash as if feeling for something. Then its wings expanded and it started slamming against the glass, not going towards "Spinner's Corner" but away, southwest.

"Wow," Rose murmured, "It's even worse than it wa-"

The glass shattered and Rose screamed. Ben flailed a little before forcing himself to settle down, trying to look up. The golden scarab was casually crawling around on top of his head, shifting its wings as if to say "found him".

**III**

Ashley felt guilty for feeling this way, but some days she wished that Rumplestiltskin _had_ taken her baby. She sighed and made her way down the aisle, trying to savor the fifteen minutes that her former prince had given her by watching over Alexandra while she ran out for some things.

She had been pretty sure she was alone. One minute the aisle was abandoned, the next a young girl in leather, boots and a trenchcoat was there, snapping into a cell phone.

"Dontcha think this is a gross abuse of my position, making me run out to grab diapers?! …I don't care about our deal, baby's not here yet, I shouldn't be doing this! It's degrading and I don't even know what kind to get," The girl started scanning the various brands, "…dude you better shut up. I don't _care_ if you have a limp, I will push you down a flight of stairs without one freaking ounce of regret because my morals do not stretch far enough to encompass you… No, please, don't take the baby away from me, I'll be better…" She whined.

The girl turned her head and Ashley quickly tried to look like she wasn't eavesdropping. It didn't work.

"Hey, Glass Slipper Beotch, what's the best brand for a baby's output?"

Ashley shook her head helplessly and the girl snarled, turning back to her conversation.

"I hope you realize just how much you damned that poor baby girl by not taking her from Stupidfuckingrella over here. …I don't care if you're over it, I'm not. Okay, whatever, I'm just going to have to figure this out on my own because you're not man enough to buy the diapers yourself. …don't fucking say you love me, you piece of shit, go die in a fire."

The girl hung up and then smiled sheepishly at Ashley, "Who am I kidding? I love that motherfucker even if he drives me up a wall."

Katja proceeded to buy the most expensive brand of diapers she could find, figuring that's how Rump would shop, and marveled at the fact that they were _disposable_. Would the wonders of this land never cease? Why the hell hadn't they thought of it? Paying with Mr. Gold's credit card (and getting some strange looks from the check-out girl), she left the grocery store, swinging the bag while contemplating teleporting right into the bastard's lap just to scare him crapless.

Her plans were interrupted when David Nolan AKA: Prince Not-James Charming started after her. He glanced at the semi-transparent bag and arched an eyebrow at her.

Katja frowned, then placed a hand on her stomach, "I don't care what others say, I'm going to keep my baby."

David Nolan smirked, "Very funny, Katja."

It kind of ticked her off that he didn't believe her. She eased back on one leg, "Whatcha want, Charming?"

He seemed to be taken aback by her forwardness, though it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. It wasn't like Katja hid her personality or anything.

"I've heard rumors," he began vaguely, and Katja wondered if she'd have to spill the beans about the upcoming bundle of joy, "That werecats can…that they're capable of traveling between worlds."

"Aye, some can do it," Katja agreed, "We don't come out of the womb portal-hopping, but if we're properly trained…"

"And have you been properly trained?"

She arched an eyebrow, "Why's it matter?"

"Because some of us are getting homesick," he murmured.

Katja sneered, "Oh well, then jump on my back and I'll whisk you away if that's the case," she shook her head, "I know you non-magic users think it's easy but it's not, and realm-jumping's about as hard as it gets. I don't even have a compass, or enchanted water, and frankly it's exhausting to jump, and bringing someone with me makes it ten times worse." She shrugged, and continued down the sidewalk, "I'm not Jefferson, sorry."

She really wasn't sorry; she'd hate to have the hat's restrictions. Though Charming did give her an idea…

Mr. Gold fought the urge to grin as Katja plopped down the bag of diapers in his lap, him sitting on the sofa as he waited. Whether she believed him or not it was mostly out of practicality that he sent her on the errand; if the Dark One so much as sneezed people were suspicious. It was just an added bonus that it irritated Katja.

She disappeared into the kitchen and a moment later he heard her opening and closing several cupboards, trying to find goodies.

"You didn't happen to bring a gatepoint compass, did you?" She asked nonchalantly.

Mr. Gold turned, glaring in the direction Katja's voice was coming from since he couldn't glare at her directly, "…what, pray tell, would you need _that_ for?"

"Hey, you know what they say about us cats and our curiosity. It's like men and war, really."

She kindly came back into glaring range with a can of tuna, her claws opening the container more efficiently than any tool. She leaned against the doorway and gave him her best innocent-kitten look. It didn't work this time.

"Why on earth do you need it?" He growled.

She shrugged, "It's just a business idea. People want to go home, I take them home for a price, they realize it's not the way they left it. Easy deals."

Mr. Gold rose to his feet and Katja was still, the food forgotten in her hand at the murderous look in his eyes.

"It may not be my forte, but I know enough to realize just how difficult and dangerous it can be." He held up a finger, "You've got one gate point to try and pass through to get back to Storybrooke and if you miss, you not only lose your magic, you lose your identity in a strange city with no one to help you," he frowned, "I will not give you the tools to your own destruction."

Katja's cheeks flushed crimson and she bowed her head, "Yes master."

**III**

It was almost a game to Ben, seeing how often he could distract Rose from her mission. It wasn't a particularly hard game; Rose was just as enamored by the sights as any die-hard tourist. Ben took her around the city, motioning towards points of interest while she questioned if he actually knew where he was going.

Of course Rose couldn't resist going up into the Space Needle, which had been a lot grander in 1962 but was still rather impressive. She listened earnestly to the elevator operator's spiel, and was absolutely thrilled when they went out onto the deck and looked out at the city. She was so beautiful in her happiness, not showing an ounce of fear at the height… Actually she hadn't shown much fear at all, taken in by a stranger, so close to having a child in an unfamiliar city and employed with a needle-in-a-haystack task. He could easily see why his father loved her.

And in that moment, as she rocked onto her tiptoes to peer as far as she could over the edge of the viewing deck, he realized that he loved her too. He loved his stepmother as easily as breathing, and he was surprised by the utter lack of resentment he felt towards her. Children always hated their stepparents, didn't they? They wanted their real parents together and hated the intrusion, forced to accept them because their parent had. He hadn't even been given a warning; suddenly his father was married and anticipating another child.

He should be angry, resentful, bitter and distant, and perhaps he would've been if she had been different. But this funny girl who loved books as much as he did, who didn't back down without a good reason, who was the personification of sunshine nearly all the time… His papa loved her, and so did he.

She glanced back and smiled, "I know you live here, Ben, but that doesn't mean you can't be impressed."

Ben smirked and sidled up to her, leaning against the railing. He peered down at the people passing below.

"…you found Baelfire yet?" He asked.

Rose giggled and playfully shoved him, "Very funny."

"I'm serious! This is a good of a tactic as any!" He insisted, pointing at someone, "If I were to pick a Baelfire, it would definitely be that guy."

She squinted, "…I think that's a girl."

"No way, it's gotta be a dude."

"Well apparently Baelfire got a sex change."

"Dang… No wonder you couldn't find him."

Rose giggled and nudged him again, continuing to watch the people go about their lives. It felt natural for Ben to wrap his arm around Rose's waist, assuring her that he was there, that there weren't going to be any games he wanted to play to torment his father further. He just wanted to go home.

As second nature as his motion, Rose rested her head on his shoulder, not even realizing she was doing it. She wished that this was her life, this peaceful moment. Her mind toyed with the idea of living a life with Ben, playing housekeeper with someone who she might actually love. Love… Rose recoiled at the word. Such a strong emotion, and she had hardly known the man a week. And yet she couldn't grasp any other words to describe the feeling of being around him, of not wanting to leave him, of the warmth that wrapped around her just knowing he was there.

People passed around them, smiling and assuming that they were a young couple in love with their first child on the way. None suspected the story hiding beneath the image and how it wasn't nearly as simple as that.

**III**

It had just happened, David Nolan becoming the co-sheriff. There was no official decision, no real discussion; it just made sense that someone would help Emma deal with people from a land she was not familiar with. Besides, it had been easy enough to get by with just one officer with everyone cursed, but now that everyone remembered they needed a larger law enforcement group.

After a long shift of reassuring Ms. Ginger that the Bengal tiger next door was relatively harmless (unless his mistress was attacked, in which case Rajah went into beast mode), telling Archie that Cruella Hunter was not "eyeing" Pongo (she was after Ruby, which was another mess entirely), and that he was not sure where Frollo was hiding (but he'd keep a look out in case he went on another gypsy hunt), he was ready to go home and just hold his wife close. He and Leroy were both miserably homesick, and he had gotten so desperate that he had approached Puss in Boots earlier.

He fumbled for the key to his truck before glancing up. Mr. Gold was leaning against the side of it as if he had been waiting there for awhile.

"I don't appreciate you going behind my back, Mr. Nolan," he grumbled.

David's eyebrows knit together in confusion, "How did I go behind your back?"

"You're putting ideas into Katja's head, ideas that aren't in her best interest." David opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. Gold cut him off, "She did not tell me that someone talked to her, but the way you've been carrying on I knew it had to be you."

"That's not going behind your back," David insisted, "Katja's her own person and can make her own decisions, even if she looks like she's fifteen."

"That doesn't mean I can't look out for her well-being," he said coolly.

David folded his arms, "You can't honestly tell me that you'd rather be in this world."

"Of course not but if you think I'm leaving without Belle then you've lost your mind. And if you think I would willingly put Katja in such danger then you have no sense of how I feel about her," he straightened before beginning to walk away, "I'm sure you're aware of this but just in case you aren't… If you remotely suggest anything to her that might endanger her in any way, you'll have to deal with me. Just because she's nearly grown it doesn't mean I won't stop protecting her."

He was sure Charming could relate to that, with Emma and all. Rumplestiltskin would be damned if anything happened to his little kitten.

He tried to remain optimistic as he waited patiently for 9:15 to come around. Maybe tonight would be a good night… Maybe she would finally relent and come back home and he could just _be_ with her. Even memories could wait if he could just hold his wife's hand as he witnessed their daughter's birth. Or maybe he could just manage not to tick her off and enjoy her laughs and just pray that something would click.

Maybe he should send Emma after Belle.

Finally, the digital clock read 9:15 and he dialed her number. It gave half a ring before he heard her voice.

"Hey, you've reached Rose. Leave a message after the beep."

So her phone was turned off or dead. Alright, no big deal. No. Big. Deal.

"Hey dearie," he gave a breathy laugh, "It's me. Just…call when you get the chance, I suppose. I love you."

He hung up and checked his Skype again, but she wasn't on. She had been good about the nightly 9:15 calls and he tried not to let it get to him that the last time she hadn't answered was when he learned she had lost herself to Rose.

But it was no big deal, probably nothing. No. Big. Deal.

**III**

Rose's phone was somewhere in the bottom of her purse, turned off so that she could have a nice meal with Ben without being interrupted by her husband. He had taken her to a nice restaurant called the Old Spaghetti Factory, where they sat inside of an old trolley in the center of the restaurant.

"You know," she said, twirling the angel hair around her fork, "If you're going to just take me around sightseeing I might have to leave you home."

Ben gave his crooked half-smile, "Next time I'll be better, promise. I just thought you should see the city while you're here."

"Well that's very sweet of you," she said.

He wondered if good deeds still counted if someone had ulterior motives for doing them.

He prodded his spumoni ice cream, losing himself in thought. Rose watched him for a moment before gently speaking.

"Did the dessert do something to offend you?"

Ben glanced up, "Huh? Oh, no, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Not a what, a who," he smiled, "You remind me a lot of a girl I used to know."

Rose tilted her head, "Really?"

"Yeah. She was brave, didn't care much about dangerous people… She saw the good in them."

She smiled sheepishly and bowed her head, "I'm not brave."

"Sure you are," he insisted, "Or else you wouldn't be here."

She met his eyes again and frowned sadly, "This isn't the brave thing, to run away on a fool's errand. If I was truly brave, I would go home and work on my relationship with my husband. Bravery isn't about whether you have fear or not; it's about working through your fear knowing you must to get to the other side."

The waiter came by and took the check back. They quietly made their way out of the restaurant and Ben tried to remember where he parked.

"What was her name?" Rose asked.

"What?"

"The girl, what was her name?"

"Oh, Morraine."

Rose smiled, "That's a beautiful name," she said.

Ben nodded his agreement, "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he claimed.

He unlocked the doors and Rose fished out her phone, turning it on. She sighed and eased herself into the passenger's seat.

"He's probably seething at the fact I missed his call," she confided, noticing the voicemail message. She deleted it without listening and dialed his number.

Ben would be lying if he said he wasn't purposefully listening to the conversation as he started the truck and pulled out of the parking spot.

"Hey… Yeah, my phone was turned off. I was out to dinner with Ben… The man I'm staying with. …of course I've told you where I'm staying, above that bookshop. …alright so I didn't tell you that I'm staying with a single man. …because I knew you'd freak out, just like you are now. Yes you are freaking out. …this wouldn't even be a problem if I were staying with a strange woman… No don't lie to me! You would _not_ have the same issues!"

Ben rested a hand on her knee. She didn't seem to notice it.

"We wouldn't even be talking about this if you were here. Then I'd be with _you_ and you'd see there's nothing to be concerned about. …don't give me that, that's a load of crap. It doesn't make any sense… I know, I _know_… I KNOW!"

He pulled over, shifting the truck into park before turning towards her, "You need to calm down, Rose."

She shook her head at Ben and in the glow of the streetlight he saw tears streaming down her face.

"This is the real world, Gold! This story that you've come up with _isn't real_! I'm not going to believe in a fairy tale no mat-"

Ben pulled the phone out of Rose's hand and promptly hung up before tucking it away, "Enough."

Rose looked blankly at him, as if she couldn't understand what he had just done, and then started to sob. He pulled her close to him and cradled her as her body jerked violently, loud painful wails tearing out of her. He murmured soft things into her ear, things she probably couldn't hear but the tone was enough. Slowly she relaxed as he rubbed her back, sniffing every so often.

"…there's nearly five months in my life I can't remember," she murmured into his shoulder, "One minute I was in the house reading "The Count of Monte Cristo" hearing Mr. Gold come through the front door…and the next thing I know it's spring, and I'm driving out of Storybrooke. I don't have a single memory in between."

He watched as she gently stroked the mark on her arm, closing her eyes.

"He says…that I'm cursed, and that's why I can't remember and why I refuse to believe him. That Rosaline French Gold is just a bunch of false memories and that…" She laughed bitterly, "And that I am actually Belle, the Belle from that storybook, and he's Rumplestiltskin the Beast. And that he can't come after me because then he'll lose his memories, and that he never cheated on me, and that I have magic because he's some Dark One…"

She looked up at him, and he was worried that she would start crying again.

"I don't know what to believe," she whimpered.

Ben rested his cheek on her head, "…it seems to me that you have nothing to lose for going along and believing in the fairy tale… But a husband and potential happiness if you don't."

Rose didn't say anything, which he supposed was her better than fighting against him. They stayed put for awhile, he simply holding her, before she sat up and he drove them back to "Spinner's Corner". Sadie seemed a little irritated that they had been gone so long, but forgave them quickly in typical dog fashion.

Ben did not feel like sleeping; there was too much to think about to sleep. He sat in his office with Rose's binder spread out in front of him, glancing through it. At the list of facts Rose knew about him. At the maps for every city. At addresses and names and mini checklists for each potential Baelfire. And then something fell out, an envelope labeled "evidence" in handwriting much tighter than Rose's. It made him more nervous than anything else; Rose had been willing to let him glance through the binder. But this could be private.

He opened it anyway.

The first few pictures were studio and event shots of Rose and his father. There was a distance between them despite if his arm was around her or not. There was little emotion behind the smiles, blank eyes staring back at the camera. They were paperclipped together in a stack labeled "during curse".

The next stack had a sticky note attached in sloppy handwriting: "Caught!: Mr. and Mrs. Gold Showing PDA". This was crossed out in favor of "The Golds Exposed: Could They Actually Be In Love?". The first few were low quality, as though taken from a cell phone; Rose meeting her husband outside of a diner with sequential shots of a kiss and them walking away. Then there were other shots of them walking arm-in-arm around town, beaming at each other and overall looking incredibly, deeply in love. This stack was labeled "uncursed".

The last shot was just Rose going into the shop, halfway through the doorway. But a few steps behind was Rumplestiltskin, watching her as he followed. His eyes were so full of tenderness and adoration of the woman whose back was turned to him, Ben half expected another picture to materialize of him spinning her around to land a passionate kiss on her lips.

His father may have given him that look (minus the passionate kiss part, of course)…but Ben was certain that he had never, ever given his mother that look.

Sadie pushed open the door and grunted, squirming anxiously.

"What's up, girl?" He asked, and she jerked her head back towards the guest room. Ben set the binder down and followed Sadie towards her charge.

Rose was dead asleep, curled up on her side. But her face was pinched and she kept curling closer and closer into herself. A few whimpers slipped out and then her shoulders shook as if she were crying. Her head twisted and turned but did not find comfort, her shoulders shaking harder. Ben very carefully approached, sinking down onto the bed in front of her and brushing her hair away from her face.

She gave a low agonized moan and then her eyes flew open, gasping.

"It's alright, Rose, it's just me," Ben reassured her, before a nose appeared nudging at her leg, "And Sadie," he amended.

It took Rose a moment to gain her senses and then she frowned, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? Having a nightmare? That's ridiculous," he scoffed, continuing to stroke her hair.

Her bright blue eyes stared up at him as she settled back down, "It's just…sometimes I have this dream."

Ben scooched a little further onto the bed and then lay down beside her, so that he was at her eye level, "What are they about?" He asked.

She glanced away, "…Baelfire."

Ben was silent, letting his hand drop back to his own side. He wouldn't pressure her into telling; if she wanted to, though, he was all ears. She took a deep breath, staring at some point above his shoulder.

"It starts the same each time; I'm standing to the side while my husband is in the middle of the road. Then this boy comes up to him, smiling and throwing his arms around him, shouting "papa!". And Gold's smile is so big, and they're both so happy, I just wish I could freeze the moment and let it be that way forever," she glanced down, "But that's not what happens."

He watched as Rose's face clouded with pained sorrow.

"I go to introduce myself, to try and be a part of this like we always imagined. But Baelfire looks at me before I get too close, and he's disgusted. "Who is she?" He hisses at Mr. Gold, "What is she doing here?". "She's your stepmother, Bae," he tries to tell the boy, but Baelfire's not listening. "You said you'd love no one else!" he accuses, "That you'd care about nothing else! You made a vow!". And Gold's trying to explain how he didn't mean to fall in love, and I'm just speechless. Baelfire wheels on me and screams how I'm not his mother, I'll never be his mother, and I can't even assure him that I'm not _trying_ to replace his mother before he bolts away."

Ben's stomach clenched, disgusted at this nightmare version of himself. Rose shook her head.

"And then Mr. Gold turns on me, tells me that it's my fault he's losing his son a second time, and he's sobbing and tormented. So I run after Baelfire, because I can't stand that I'm the reason he doesn't want to be with his father," she shrugged, "The ending changes every time. Sometimes I never catch up to him. Sometimes I come into a clearing where there's a hole in the ground he's disappeared into that's now sealed up. The worst times are when this faceless woman attacks me, determined to rip me apart for trying to steal Bae from her."

She ran her fingers through her hair, "It always feels so real in the dream…and then I wake up and realize that the real Baelfire's not going to be so blunt. It's going to be this simmering resentment that I won't know about until it's too late and I can't change it."

"And what if Baelfire is a decent human being and gives you a chance and learns that you're an awesome woman and that his father is lucky to have you?" Ben retorted.

Rose smirked, "You've read enough fairy tales to know better, haven't you? Give me one where the stepmother isn't a villain."

"Maybe this one hasn't been written yet," he countered.

The feelings came back, then. Not because of his final statement, but just him being there in general. It was a warmth that Rose could only describe as love, but it wasn't like she wanted to have sex with him or something. It was… Something she couldn't place. A need to hold him close and make him feel protected. To help him however she could, and offering even when he insisted he didn't need it. To just be there for him, a little cheerleader in his corner when the world was dumping rain on his parade.

Had the age gap not been so tiny, she might've said she felt maternal towards Ben.

**III**

I'm just, like, _done_ with Rose. Like she was okay for a chapter, maybe two, but I think we're all ready to have our Mrs. Gold back. Next chapter will probably be the finale of the angst-fest I could've sworn I left in "Mr. and Mrs. Gold", though some might creep into chapter six.

Next time: Mr. Gold has had enough of sitting around hoping she remembers; he's gonna break his back trying to make a memory-retaining potion so he can run after her like he's wanted to for forever. Also, Ben finally talks to his father.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own Katja...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

One of Belle's closest friends in their land had been the Huntsman, of whom she visited frequently. She had been known to spend the night at her ex-fiance's every once in a while, crashing in a spare room when she was too tired to teleport home. Even in this world, she had spent weekly visits with Jefferson at his house, drinking tea and eating sweets. If Mr. Gold had not long ago decided it was a waste of energy to be suspicious of Belle spending time with other men, he would have gone mad.

His affairs appeared no less shady; a good portion of his clientele included women who were quite proud of their bosoms and showcased them in a barely acceptable manner with their outfits. He had spent long nights with Regina, who was known to be a bit lecherous.

Early on in their marriage they silently agreed not to become paranoid towards their interactions with the opposite sex. It was silly to think of either of them cheating; Rumplestiltskin had been practically asexual since Milah left and Belle was so dedicated to him that she had bound her soul to his darkness. It was one of the rare instances of something they didn't have to worry about.

But this was not Belle. This was Rose. A woman who believed Mr. Gold capable of loving someone else, and who had admitted to looking at other men. Mr. Gold trusted Belle with Bae's own life…but he didn't trust Rose anymore than he could throw her with his bad leg and without magical strength. Rose was staying with a single man in his apartment. The beast inside of him was raging.

Katja was surprised to see the shop already open when she got there. She poked her head in the back to see her boss busy with his supplies.

"Dude, you look like you've been up all night," she observed.

"I have," he said absently, spooning a powder into a vial.

She padded towards him, "Breakthrough?" She asked hopefully.

"No, but I can't stop trying."

Katja perched on a stool and watched him for a minute, tail twitching, "What's with all the repellent charms? I thought we were going for "open"?"

"That was with the old approach," he didn't even look at her as he continued, eyes terrifyingly focused, "A heavy barrier spell separates the true self from the false self with this curse, like a glass wall. The harder one tries to remember, such as David Nolan fresh out of his coma, the more cracks in the glass. We've spent six months trying to get through to Belle but she won't let go of the curse's explanation for the circumstances she's in. It's time for a new tactic."

She watched a moment longer, "…you're trying to keep the boundary's spell at bay," she murmured.

"Exactly," he frowned, then shoved the concoction aside in agitation, "I'm going after Belle. I am going to find her and be with her and never leave her side again." He picked up a fresh vial, "I've been away from her for far too long. I can't let her be alone with this any longer, no matter what Rose thinks of me."

Katja admired his passion, but thought he sounded a little deranged. It was probably just the sleep-deprivation talking.

"You don't really make repellant charms," she remarked.

"Usually I can repel fine on my own," he muttered, "But I did a little too well with this curse… I'll have to test it on someone to make sure it works before I try it."

Katja raised her hand, "I volun-"

"No," he slapped her hand down, "I don't need Kit to make a reappearance, and I already have another person in mind. One whose Storybrooke self is very similar to his old self and who hopefully loves Belle enough to agree."

She arched an eyebrow, "Who's that?"

Mr. Gold looked as though he'd just swallowed a kidney, "My father-in-law."

**III**

He still had Rose's phone, Ben realized the next morning. It was a temptation he couldn't resist and he felt horrible as he browsed through it. Her wallpaper was a picture of a sleeping black-and-white kitten in someone's lap, the hand resting nearby suggesting it was Rumplestiltskin's. He scrolled through the pictures, most of them being of his father. His father asleep. His father in an apron. His father cooking. His father brushing his teeth. His father glaring at her. His father smiling at her. The woman was beautifully obsessed with her husband.

There were pictures of other people, of course. There was her with a young boy in a fort, the boy hugging "Once Upon a Time" to his chest. There was a thin teenage girl striking a pose in the dressing room of a store, wearing a pretty black skirt and lace blouse. There was a picture of a clearing with a bunch of candles and flower petals surrounding a mattress like a music video or something. There was a picture of a woman taking a chainsaw to an apple tree. It was like staring at a foreign language; he knew they all meant something, but he couldn't figure out what.

The texts were similar; most of them were between her and a "Sexy Beast", with a few between her and "Mary Margaret" and a handful between her and "Do Not Answer" (someone that she referred to as "Your Majesty" in the texts and who in turn referred to her as Miss French). They didn't make a heck of a lot of sense, but it wasn't like they were for him to understand.

Ben guiltily slid the phone back into his pocket as Rose came up to the counter. She sighed and leaned against it.

"I think today's going to be my last day of running around until after Bella," she admitted, "Last thing I want is my water breaking around a stranger who may or may not be Bae."

"That's probably a smart decision," Ben agreed, "Lemme go grab my coat…"

"Actually…" She bit her lip, "I was going to do it alone today."

"Oh," Ben frowned, "Okay then."

He did not like that idea. At all. He took the phone back out of his pocket.

"Here. I forgot to, uh, give it to you last night after everything."

Rose glanced at the phone and grimaced before taking it, "Thanks."

"Keep in touch?" He requested.

She gave a noncommittal nod.

Ben couldn't help but worry about Rose. She had been fine so far on her trip, he tried to reassure himself. She was a big girl; she could take care of herself. She didn't need him… But he still couldn't concentrate on a helluva lot that day, checking his cell phone constantly. He didn't get so much as a text.

It was around 6:15 when he heard something coming from the guest room. It almost sounded like she had left her music on. He tiptoed closer and realized it was her phone going off.

"Think she left it behind on purpose?" He asked Sadie.

Sadie gave him a "what do you think" glare.

He sighed and slipped inside, glancing down at the screen of the phone. "1 Missed Call". With a guilty glance around, he opened her phone again to look at the number. The I.D. was Sexy Beast.

The cheery song started up again as it vibrated in his hand. "Call from… Sexy Beast", the screen now announced. His father. His father was calling, and Ben was a button click away from hearing his voice for the first time in eight long years. The lure was too much to ignore.

She was avoiding him again. The situation was getting worse instead of getting better. Mr. Gold sat at the end of their bed, cell phone in hand, feeling utterly helpless. Their last call was the first time he had really gotten upset with her, and apparently Rose's way of dealing with conflict was avoidance. He sincerely hoped that Belle didn't remember any of this.

The second time he called, on the third ring, it picked up.

"Hello?"

Mr. Gold bristled at the male voice, a slight rasp to it as though he had a dry throat. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his cane as though it were the only thing keeping him civil. The boy probably hadn't actually done anything, he reminded himself.

"Ben, is it?" He asked crisply.

Ben… He'd never hated his pseudonym more. Ben closed his eyes against the suspicion and coldness in the voice on the other line. This was a man he didn't know, a man without the gentleness Bae had come to know from Rumplestiltskin. Ben's fingers wrapped around the edge of the bed as if he were being dragged into another vortex, threatening to be pulled away yet again by a mask that his papa was wearing for protection.

"And you're Mr. Gold," he stated.

"I am."

He sighed, "Rose isn't here right now…"

"Right, of course," he muttered and Ben flinched.

He had imagined this moment for so long, being reunited with his father… He didn't want it to be this way. He wanted to be certain his father had changed before he came back into his life, no matter how painful keeping his identity from him was.

Because if Rumplestiltskin hadn't learned his lesson by losing his son, then the suffering Ben had endured had been for naught.

He took a deep breath, "…she's out looking for Baelfire."

Mr. Gold flinched. It wasn't as though it was a big shock, but Bae's name had been such a private thing, a secret between himself and Belle… He hated anyone else saying it.

"Alone?" He growled.

"She wouldn't let me go with her."

Ben was silent for a moment, choosing his next words carefully, "…she told me about what happened."

"About how I cheated on her?"

"About how you got here," he summoned all of the bravado he could muster, "…I know that you're Rumplestiltskin."

The conversation had taken a drastically worse turn. Mr. Gold was almost hoping that this Ben would say that he had feelings for Rose so it was straight-forward and wrong and he could get defensive. The cane slid out of his grasp and hit the floor with a dull thud.

Ben only gave him a few heartbeats to recover, "Don't be mad at her for telling me anything; she's cursed, and it's not fair to blame her when she can't even remember who she is."

Mr. Gold's stomach turned, "…what did she tell you?"

"Fragments, pieces really. That story book is missing the last few pages," he informed him offhandedly, "There was a curse that took all of the characters from their world to here, to Storybrooke, Maine. The Evil Queen cast it but you created it for some reason for her… And for some reason you remember and your wife didn't once she left."

Ben listened to the silence, waiting for something, anything. The voice returned as composed as a politician's.

"It's just a book."

"It's not just a book," he insisted, "I've seen the mark on her arm. I've watched her use magic. That book is history, not fable."

She had used magic in front of a stranger. The very thought drove Mr. Gold into an inner fit of rage. Not even Rose could be so stupid, flaunting her power like it was normal. Now someone knew about them, about all of them, and it was only a matter of time-

Mr. Gold's lips curled back, "If you dare hurt her…"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

He was taken aback for a moment at the ferocity in the boy's tone, as if he could possibly care so much for a woman he had known for a week and a half. Mr. Gold knew a thing or two about liars, and Ben's voice was covered in sincerity.

It had been there, for a moment. The man his papa had been. Not in the threat itself, but the underscore to it. It was a plea, the same sort of hopeless desperation he had heard when confronted by Hordor as they tried to run. An acceptance of his own lack of power, trying to appeal to the person who held it.

He didn't like Rumplestiltskin speaking to him in that way no matter how well he tried to hide it.

Ben bent over, resting his elbows on his thighs, "Listen, I'm not saying this because I want to threaten you or Belle. I just want you to know that I'm a believer," he rubbed at his forehead, "…I want your story, Rumplestiltskin."

There had been only one person in all of his life that had wanted his story. So long as the beast existed they didn't care how he came to be, except for one noblewoman who made it her life's goal to explore every narrative, be it in print or in life. Mr. Gold did not know what game this boy was playing, but he had to go along with it. At least, until he could cross the line and book the first available flight to Seattle.

"It's long," he warned, resting his elbows on his thighs and rubbing at his forehead.

"I'm sure it is. Maybe I should just ask my questions and you can answer, huh?"

"Fine," Mr. Gold relented.

Ben shuffled the mental index cards of what he wanted to know, starting with the most crucial, "Why did you create the curse?"

Mr. Gold only paused a moment before responding, as calmly as a witness on the stand for a trial, "Because I lost my son. He wanted to go to a world without magic so that I didn't have to be the Dark One…but I was too afraid of the unknown and losing the only real sense of power I've ever had," he shrugged, "I regret it every day, of course, but there is no way to fix something after the fact."

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course a part of him hoped he was doing it to be with him, but it was a different matter to hear him actually say it. There was no justification for his actions, no explaining why he had taken on the role of the Dark One or blaming anyone else for the loss of his son. He had taken responsibility and Ben wanted to reach through the phone and hug him for it.

But there was something that bothered him about the way Rumplestiltskin had gotten here.

"Why a dark curse?"

Mr. Gold wanted to laugh.

"Because I tried everything else. The magic beans were gone, no realm-jumper wants to be stranded in a land without magic, had no luck with enchanted wood… After nearly three hundred years without my boy I was willing to take a chance on him being upset if it meant I could at least get to the world he was in," he sighed, "Belle insists he's alive but I don't know how in the world she'd know that."

Three hundred years. Three hundred freaking years had passed in their old world while Ben complained about eight. And in all that time he hadn't given up…

It felt nice to have a trial run, Mr. Gold realized, telling a complete stranger about his struggle to be reunited with his son. Maybe it would come in handy when he was face-to-face with Bae and his brain shut down.

"If we're in a land without magic then how can Belle use it?" Ben murmured.

Mr. Gold played with his rings, "…I may have brought it back to Storybrooke," he admitted, "I wanted to make sure I could find him… No, that's not the entire reason, because if I had to I could search the old fashioned way, whatever that way is here. I…" He took a deep breath, "I've made enemies and Belle…gods if anything were to ever happen to her I couldn't handle it." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "My darling Belle has become a crutch that I can't walk without."

There was silence on the other end of the line before Ben gently continued, "And now she's lost her memory."

"Magic comes with a price," Mr. Gold remarked bitterly, "I was stupid to have her cross the town line, drunk off the knowledge that she was pregnant and Regina would've pounced on that immediately. She's reverted to her cursed self, a cursed self that's trying to reconcile what she thinks she knows with the truth." His voice lowered as if he were speaking to himself, "I addressed a letter to Belle and snuck it into her suitcase…and the next thing I know she's accusing me of cheating on her, and the curse will not allow her to think otherwise."

Ben stared at a point on the floor somewhere between his feet, "…is her refusal to go home part of the curse?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure what that's about… She shouldn't give a damn about Baelfire, nonetheless be fixated on him," he shook his head, "I'd like to think that it's Belle somehow controlling this Rose person… But that might just be wishful thinking."

That was it, then. All he needed to do was convince her that he was Baelfire and then they could go to Storybrooke. They could be a family, and surely this memory thing wasn't permanent.

Something muffled came from the other line and Ben tensed up. He'd heard the noise many times before, as a young boy staring at the wall, his father giving in thinking he was asleep. Of course, Rumplestiltskin had been careful to cry quietly, lest he wake up his son with his despair.

"It seems like every time I try to protect my family something happens to them," Mr. Gold muttered.

Ben fought back his own tears.

"…I'm going to protect her," he murmured, "Both Belle and your daughter. I'm going to do everything I can to get her back home to you, I promise."

Trust did not come easily to a man who had been stabbed in the back his entire life. Mr. Gold believed that Ben thought he was being truthful… But it was very rare that someone went through with their word.

"I hope so…Ben," The name tasted bitter on his tongue.

Ben smiled, could imagine his hesitance to reach his hand across the table and shake to a deal he would eventually break.

"Don't bother with the threats," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "If she so much as gets a scraped knee I know you'll turn me into a snail and crush me. I'm…I'm trying though," he sighed, "I'll try to have her call you when she gets in, alright?"

"It's fine," Mr. Gold murmured, suddenly exhausted.

"Alright then…"

"Good bye."

Just as abruptly as his hand slipping out of his father's, the line went dead, and Ben's connection to him was lost.

His papa had changed, or at least was trying to. That was good enough for Ben.

Mr. Gold hung up and tossed the phone aside, sighing. As though hearing his name Figaro trotted over, jumping up beside him and headbutting his arm for attention. Mr. Gold stroked him absently.

He had never told Belle about the incident with the cart, just said that if Bae got so much as a scraped knee he'd kill the one responsible. He had never connected the scraped knee to the man responsible being turned into a snail and stepped on. He wasn't sure if it was a coincidence…or something else.

It hadn't been a successful day… Well, Rose corrected herself, it had been successful in the fact that two potential Baes had been crossed off. She was exhausted both physically and mentally. She was tired of searching for Baelfire, tired of traveling, tired of being pregnant. She just wanted a break.

She exited the elevator and was surprised to see Ben sitting on her bed, head in his hands.

"Ben?"

He glanced up at her with red swollen eyes. He tried to smile.

"Welcome back Be- Rose," he wiped at his eyes, "How was your you-time?"

"What's wrong?" She sat down beside him, taking his hands in hers.

He looked at her, and could see so easily what a great mother she was going to be. He could envision himself watching his father raise his little sister alongside his stepmother, happy to observe the changes he thought he saw. Maybe he could even be a part of that life, a free permanent babysitter and hang-out friend of the parents.

"You need to go home," Ben said firmly.

Rose stared at him, instantly defensive, "Why?" Then, after a brief pause, "Did he talk to you?"

"I talked to him," Ben corrected, "And I know he loves you and wants to make it right, and your daughter deserves to be with both her father and mother."

She sighed and shook her head, "I keep telling the both of you, I can't go back until I find Bael-"

"And what if I'm Baelfire?" His voice cracked on his name, staring at her pleadingly, "Then can we go, please?"

She snorted, "Right, you're Baelfire."

"I am," he whimpered, his hands tightening around her own, "Ask me anything, I can prove it. I'll tell you about the wool spinner Rumplestiltskin, about the Dark One, about my friend Morraine or the Ogre Wars or Reul Ghorm…"

Rose pulled her hands away, shooting him a glare, "…how dare you make fun of this. This isn't some fairy tale you can poke fun at, Baelfire is real and I have to find him."

"But he's _right here_," Ben begged, tears beginning anew, "Looking at you. I've been here, so please open your eyes. Believe."

There was a flicker of something across Rose's eyes, something akin to hopeful longing. It vanished though, replaced by Rose's scowl.

"Then why wouldn't you say anything? Why would you wait so long to confess?!"

"Because I didn't know it was safe to until I heard him!" He raked his fingers through his hair, "I love him but I can't go back to him until I know he's changed! I can't be with that thing that takes root in my papa and makes him do such horrible things!" He reigned in his voice, forcing it down to a lower level, "…I need to know that these years alone haven't been for nothing."

She looked confused for a moment, even frustrated. She grimaced and shook her head as if trying to rid herself of some thought.

"You're not Baelfire…" She said weakly.

"Yes I am," he insisted gently, "I promise… I know it's terrifying, to make that leap of faith, but we'll be there to catch you, my papa and I. Please believe me… Please, Belle."

The name yet again was a trigger in the wrong way.

Rose got to her feet with amazing speed despite her size, glaring at him, "He did this, didn't he? You're siding with him, aren't you? Trying to get me to believe some ridiculous story…" She pointed at him, "Or is this all you? Is this your way of trying to help some poor crazy woman, by playing Anastasia?"

Ben wasn't about to back down, no matter how cross her words, "This isn't you-"

"Shut up!"

"You're cursed!"

"Shut the hell up!"

"Why won't you believe us?!" He screamed.

"Because I can't take that risk!" She screeched.

Without another word, Rose stormed out of the room. Sadie stood, torn between her master and her new mistress. Her master gave her a dismissive wave and Sadie limped after Rose, only to find that she was already downstairs and almost out the door.

**III**

Mr. Gold hadn't spoken to Moe French since the incident in Granny's diner. He had had no reason to, and Moe was just as cowardly as he was. He gathered what reserves of patience he had and walked into "Game of Thorns".

Moe glanced up from the counter, glaring once he realized who it was, "What do you want?"

Gaston glanced up from where he had been watering flowers, a sight that would have made Mr. Gold snicker had he not been so focused.

"I need a favor," He forced the words out.

Naturally, Moe was dumbfounded, "A favor? You?"

Mr. Gold only nodded.

"And what on earth could I do for you that you'd ask me for?" The question was laced with unmistakable curiosity.

Mr. Gold settled his cane in front of him, both hands gripping it tightly as if it were a shield, "I think I have a potion to be able to cross the town line and bring Belle back. Unfortunately there's a high price to pay if I'm wrong."

He went silent, watching the wheels in the former nobleman's head turn.

Moe's eyes narrowed, "…you want me to be your guinea pig."

Apparently the man wasn't as dumb as Mr. Gold took him for.

"Yes," he admitted, "I am almost confident that it will work."

"And yet you won't try it yourself," Moe placed his hands on the counter, two meaty fists curling menacingly, "Why now, after all these months? Why are you just now running after her?"

"Because getting her to remember isn't working," Mr. Gold fought to keep his composure.

"And yet dragging her back here will?"

"I have no intention of dragging her. Persuading possibly, but there are much bigger things that need to be attended to."

"Such as what?"

"Such as being there for her."

"Again, why hasn't this idea come to you before?" Moe leaned forward, "Give me one good reason why I should help you."

"Not me, Belle," he corrected, "Belle needs me right now, or at least someone."

"Why _now_?"

"Because she's pregnant."

Mr. Gold had not planned on going their entire lives without telling her father that he was a grandpapa. He had just thought it would be a good idea to wait, have a nice dinner, preferably when Belle remembered and the baby was born so there'd be no insane objections. Because who could object to a grandchild as they held it in their arms, with that cute little baby face specifically designed to melt the hearts of grown-ups to care for it?

As usual, though, he was saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"She's pregnant, and I need to be there for her," he continued softly, bowing his head so he didn't have to look at Maurice.

Silence crowded the small shop, thick as chowder and threatening to suffocate them all.

"…how long?" Moe croaked.

"She's due any day now."

Moe did the math, "…did you know when you sent her away that she was pregnant?"

Mr. Gold couldn't bring himself to lie, "Yes." A thick knot formed in his throat, but he'd be damned if he cried in front of Maurice.

Moe rounded the counter and Mr. Gold braced himself to be hit, "You disgusting monster! Get out!" He jabbed a finger towards the door, "Get _out_!"

Mr. Gold obeyed, knowing that there was no way he could explain that he had done it to protect her, that his intentions had been good but were sullied by the curse of the town line. Explaining anything to Maurice had gone out the window the day Rumplestiltskin demanded his daughter for his price to save the village.

He was almost to the end of the block when the "Game of Thorns" door flew open and he heard footsteps racing towards him.

"Rumplestiltskin!"

Had it been Moe French's voice he would've kept going, but it wasn't. He paused and glanced back to see his true love's former fiancé running after him, wearing not the regal clothes of a knight off-duty, but worn jeans and a dirty t-shirt. The Storybrooke normality only called more attention to the sword dangling sheathed from his belt. It was odd, but also fitting.

Gaston paused as if he had just noticed the absurdity of the situation. He straightened and cleared his throat.

"I volunteer," he said importantly.

Mr. Gold shook his head, "You don't have to-"

"Yes I do," Gaston insisted, "You should be there for your child's birth; Belle will need you more than ever." He shifted uncomfortably, "…take it as my apology for hitting on your wife, excuse of being cursed aside."

Mr. Gold couldn't help but smile at that.

It was an awkward ride to the town line. Besides Belle the pair of them had little to nothing in common, and there was the slight tension of the fact Mr. Gold was pretty much experimenting on him, coupled with how they were on opposite sides of Sir Maurice's feelings spectrum.

To his credit, Gaston didn't seem nervous about the ordeal, only determined, as if he were about to slay the line instead of merely cross it.

"Your sword is your most prized possession, am I correct?" Mr. Gold asked. Gaston nodded and Mr. Gold motioned for it.

Gaston was hesitant to comply, but unhooked his scabbard and handed it over. Mr. Gold took it and pulled out a vial, carefully pouring half of its contents down the length of it.

"So long as you keep this on your person you should not lose your memories," he said, handing the sword back to Gaston. Gaston secured it to his belt.

He glanced at Mr. Gold, "And you haven't found an antidote for the memory loss yet?"

Mr. Gold shook his head, "Nothing save for true love's kiss."

Gaston frowned, "Shame. I should get one of those." It was meant to be a joke, but there was little humor in the situation.

Squaring his shoulders, the former knight stared straight ahead, strolling confidently past the orange spray-painted line that had held Rumplestiltskin back for weeks upon weeks. He watched as Gaston was struck with the magic and as he raised his arms as if to push it off. Then the magic faded and Gaston turned back to Mr. Gold.

He should've chosen someone who didn't constantly look confused. It made determining the outcome more difficult.

The confusion faded, replaced with a smug grin, "I am Sir Gaston," he announced, "And you are the beast known as Rumplestiltskin."

Mr. Gold had never been so glad to be called a beast by someone other than Belle.

It was all he could do to drop Gaston off back at the flower shop, then drive at a flirting-with-legality speed limit to the shop. Belle hadn't taken Bae's shawl with her; all he'd have to do was pull it out of the vault, sprinkle the potion onto it, tell Katja to hold down the fort, and book the next possible flight to Seattle.

He could be with Belle again. Within twenty-four hours.

He swung aside the painting to reveal one of the hidden safes, glancing over his shoulder out of habit before dialing in the combination. He reached in with his left hand and gingerly pulled it out.

Something about the light attracted him to the band of gold around his finger and he paused. That ring meant so much to him…but so did Bae's shawl. One signified his mission for the past several hundred years to find his son; the other signified the woman who had stayed with him through hell and high water, his true love.

Horror spread like ice through him as he realized he didn't know which of these things was his most prized possession. He did not know whether he loved Baelfire or Belle more.

**III**

Three days later, it was an overcast but generally nice day both in Storybrooke and Seattle. It was a quiet peaceful day laced with anticipation, like rainclouds on the horizon. It was the type of day perfect for something to happen during it.

Rose parked her truck and tentatively approached "Spinner's Corner", embarrassed and nervous but needing to talk to Ben. She wanted to blame her hormones for walking out on him and not so much as calling to tell him she was alright. She was pretty sure it was just her being a giant bitch though, and at the least she owed him an apology.

Even if she had no explanation for her anger.

She arrived around noon, hoping to catch him just as the morning rush was settling down and some lunch patrons were milling around. There were no lights on, however, and a note was stuck to the door. _At a meeting. Back later. Come on in if it's you, Rose._

She was struck by the odd exception and a little humiliated. Of course he cared about whether she had come back or not… The door wasn't locked, so she let herself in.

From the shadows a mass of black and white galloped towards her, Sadie refusing to be hindered by her poor back legs as she raced to greet Rose. Rose laughed and held the counter as she bent down a little, petting the border collie.

"I missed you too, Sadie-girl," she assured her, the dog's tail whipping from side to side as she squirmed with happiness. She continued to bathe Rose's hand in kisses as Rose glanced over at her usual table.

There was a lemon poppyseed scone laid out with her binder beside it, as if she were expected. Rose smiled and eased herself down. The binder's pages were covered in sticky notes, especially her collection of facts about Bae. She nibbled at her scone as she glanced at them.

"Facts About Baelfire: Father's eyes –_A little lighter, actually_. Mother's hair –_Not nearly as long or curly but yes, same color_. Liked to play with his leather ball –_Papa made it for me out of a couple pairs of old boots, for my tenth birthday. Lots of patchwork._ Friends with everyone –_Except for the butcher, he freaked me out_. Best friend is Morraine –_An extraordinary girl, wise and brave beyond her years_. Between the age of fourteen and twenty-six –_I turned twenty-two the day you walked into my life_."

More notes were added at the end, continuing the list, "_Named himself Benjamin Miloh Spinner, and named his store after himself in hopes to be so painfully obvious even his dense father could find him. First friend in the new world was a border collie named Sadie, who saved him from what he would later learn was a car. Sadie was crippled for saving his life, and has remained loyally by his side ever since. Was mad at Rumplestiltskin until he was eighteen, when the day after a bad drinking binge changed his perception. Has tried ever since to find the truth behind this world's fables, hoping it would reunite him with his father._"

That was all Rose had read. Her scone was half finished. It was 12:13 in Seattle and 3:13 in Storybrooke. Sadie was the first to realize what was happening.

**III**

Several reviewers took my complaining of Rose to mean that Belle was coming back this chapter. Sorry to disappoint, but no. Rose is still there. But I can at least offer you the promise that the storm is passing and things will get better as you can tell from the sneak peek below. It's all fluff-hill from here.

Next time: Rose is exorcised from Belle's body. I slightly disagree with Adam and Eddy about how true love works. Katja is convinced Mr. Gold is dying.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own Katja...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

**Additional Disclaimer**: I have no experience outside of research with birthing babies, so I have very little to draw on. And, for the sake of sanity, there's going to be a lot of stuff omitted. I traumatized myself enough with the research; I don't need to traumatize everyone else. Just pretend everything's accurate, just not detailed.

"I have to say, Benjamin, I never thought you'd actually sell," Nancy Tremaine remarked as she escorted him out of her office. The three piece suit felt strange on him and he kept smoothing down his tie self-consciously. "And at such a low price… Are you running from the government or something?"

Ben laughed, "No, something just came up."

"Something that's causing you to sell and vacate as soon as possible to move across the country?"

Ben hesitated for a moment, then admitted, "My father found me."

Nancy raised an eyebrow, "Your birth father?"

"Yeah," He couldn't help but grin.

She smiled back, "That's great, Ben. I'm glad." The smile turned into a smirk, "But usually people your age try to say as far _away_ from their parents as possible."

He snickered, "I know."

Nancy and he had been friends for a couple of years now. She dabbled in a little bit of everything, mostly real estate and investing, and had been not-so-subtly dropping hints about buying "Spinner's Corner" from him. Ben couldn't think of anyone better to hand his business over to.

They shook hands and Ben went on his way, heading towards a detour that passed by the hotel Rose was staying at. She wasn't the only one who could track; Ben had been carefully straddling the line between making sure she was alright and giving her space. He was worried about her, but she'd probably be downright volatile if he approached her.

His phone went off and he glanced down to see the number of the land lady for the apartment complex next door.

"Hey Gladys, what's up?"

"Hello Ben." Her tone wasn't exactly reassuring, "This might be nothing, but Sadie's been barking up a storm outside."

"Outside?" He echoed.

"She must've slipped out when that woman who's been staying with you came in."

Ben's heart stuttered. Rose had come back? "Thank you, I'll…I'll be home shortly."

He hung up and turned away from the direction he was heading, sprinting like a mad man back towards "Spinner's Corner".

He came to the block much later than he wanted to; though for running in a suit he had made pretty decent time. Sadie was indeed outside, barking her head off to anyone who would listen. She spotted her master and jerkedly ran towards him, her barks becoming more urgent.

"Take me, Sadie, show me!" He urged and she spun around, heading back towards the shop. Ben briefly noticed Rose's truck parked nearby.

Sadie continued her lopsided run even when they went inside, towards the elevator. The brief seconds it took to ascend were torture and he couldn't stop fidgeting. The doors finally opened and he heard soft whimpering.

"Rose!" He yelled, running towards the sound.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide with fear as she sat in the bath tub. She fought to catch her breath before she cried out, cringing at the contraction.

The realization of what was happening smacked him upside the head. His stepmother was going into labor.

**III**

Sometimes Mr. Gold wondered what Katja would have turn out to be like had he not interfered. Would she have been a deal maker without his teachings, as normal as a werecat could be, or a mercenary? Would she be as developed in her magic, and who would have taught her if not he? Would she have conquered her fear of ogres? (Of course she would have, he berated himself, he just helped that confrontation along). And was that flair for the dramatic due to him, or was that just her?

Mr. Gold knew he was in trouble, which was why he had sought shelter in the back corner booth of the diner. He had hoped the Lucases' combined lupinity would repel her, but he had no such luck. He realized _how_ deep in shit he was when Katja not only walked up to the diner door, but actually opened it instead of phasing through. She had a general avoidance of using doors unless it was for effect.

The few other patrons in the restaurant were startled when it flew open and Katja belted out, "Why the _fuck_ are you still in Storybrooke?!"

Ruby glanced up from the counter, tense as a retriever watching a duck fall. Granny was coming out of the kitchen, sensing trouble.

Mr. Gold pushed away his coffee cup as Katja stormed over.

"Mr. Snooty Pants just came by the shop to ask if you had used the _successful_ potion yet to go find your _wife_." He could practically see her hair standing on end, "The potion works and your ass is still in Maine! Sit and stay, were-puppy!" Katja snapped at Ruby, who had begun to head towards them.

Ruby glanced at Mr. Gold, who waved his hand dismissively. Reluctantly, she retreated.

"There was an unforeseen complication," he murmured.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"I don't know what my talisman is."

Katja snarled, "Wedding ring trumps chipped cup, though I don't think it really matters which you pick. Problem solved, now get out of here before I call Mr. Snooty Pants to drag you."

Mr. Gold shook his head, "It's not just Belle," he murmured, glancing up at Katja, "…I never told you the reason I wanted to go to a land without magic. I never told you about Baelfire."

Katja went from 60 to 0 in a second, "You loved someone…_besides_ Bluebelle?"

"My son," he breathed.

At that moment, the clock ticked to 3:13 and Mr. Gold growled, clutching at his arm, "What the hell?"

Katja's eyebrows furrowed, "You alright?"

"Fine, it's just a bad muscle cramp," He clenched and unclenched his hand, but it didn't ease the sensation. It tapered, but didn't leave.

She studied him, tail twitching, "Yanno, a shooting pain in your left arm is one of the symptoms of a heart attack…or maybe it's a stroke. One of those old people things." Mr. Gold glared at her. "What?! You're not exactly a spring chicken. Check your skin; you're friggin' human now, immortal or not," she held up her hands defensively, "I'm just saying maybe we should call 911."

"I am not going to the hospital for some charlie horse," he muttered.

Katja shrugged, "Your funeral," she insisted, leaning against the booth's table, "So this Baelfire guy…"

"I don't wish to discuss him here."

"Why? Is he a secret?"

"He has been, yes."

She mulled over the information for a moment, "…I thought the Dark One couldn't have kids."

"I mean it, Katja, I don't want to discuss him here."

She narrowed her eyes, "Does Bluebelle know?"

"Of course she knows," he muttered.

He could practically see the gears turning inside of her head as she tried to fit the information together, slowly coming to the conclusion of why Belle had really left Storybrooke.

Suddenly he doubled over the table, growling a string of obscenities as he held his arm. It wasn't a muscle cramp; it was something worse, something he had nothing to compare it to.

"Okay, you're obviously not fine," Katja straightened, offering her hand, "I'm getting you to a hospital."

"No, no, it's…" He trailed off, trying to find the word to describe the sensation, "…unnatural."

"Maybe you should start counting between contractions," Granny quipped.

Mr. Gold and Katja exchanged such a look of dread and excitement Granny was concerned they had taken it seriously.

He shrugged off his jacket and shakily undid the cuff of his left arm's sleeve. He rolled it up to expose a milky white scar that reached from the crook of his elbow to his wrist, the old wound pulsing with a soft glow. Mr. Gold stared at Katja.

"Oh my god," he gasped.

Katja stared back at him.

"Oh my god," she murmured.

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god!"

"Oh my _god_!"

Mr. Gold stumbled to his feet, grabbing his cane and jacket. Katja grabbed his arm.

"Where are we going?"

"Seattle."

"No, dumbass, that window of opportunity is firmly shut. Where in _Storybrooke_?"

He forced himself to think.

"The house," he decided, nodding much longer than the answer called for.

Katja glanced around at the other customers, who had been staring at the strange scene. They didn't know about Belle's pregnancy or the blood/soul link between her and Rumplestiltskin. Hell it was weird to Katja he was having contractions and she lived and breathed on the weird side of their land.

"S'all good! She assured them, "He's just going into labor."

And then she spirited them to his house, leaving the witnesses confused and wondering what the heck had just gone on.

**III**

"I'm sorry, Ben," Rose sobbed as he knelt beside her, taking her hand, "I was just sitting down, and then the contractions started, and my water broke, and I read somewhere that a bath tub was a good place…" She trailed off as another contraction came, her shoulders trembling with her weeping.

"It's fine, Rose, it's alright," he assured her, squeezing her hand, "I'm just glad you're here."

"I came to apologize," she explained, shifting her position, "I shouldn't have run off like that, no matter what you said."

"It was stupid to tell you the truth," he murmured.

"It's not the truth," she hissed defensively.

He sighed, "Can I grab your laptop?" She stared at him in terror. "I'll be right back," he promised, "I just… I want to look stuff up. Figure out what's happening."

Rose watched him for awhile before slowly nodding her consent. He squeezed her hand before running to the guest room.

He was pretty sure there wasn't a precedent for an estranged stepson helping his cursed stepmother deliver a baby, but there was probably something on sudden home birthing. A hospital would be a bad idea with that mark on her arm and so long as he didn't dwell on it, he wouldn't be too grossed out. He just had to focus on helping Belle-Rose in whatever way he could.

**III**

Mr. Gold and Katja appeared in the front hallway, and he went at once to the little altar he had set up what seemed like a lifetime ago. He picked up the chipped cup and stared at it, caressing the imperfection.

Katja shifted uncomfortably, "I'm sensing this is a private thing… If you need me I'll be watching t.v., 'kay?"

Mr. Gold nodded and she disappeared.

Regret kept threatening to overwhelm him, regret at not having just made a decision so he could be there with her, regret that he hadn't sent someone like Emma to go bring her home, regret that he had ever sent her away at all. There was nothing he could do about being trapped in Storybrooke now, though, and he couldn't let himself get bogged down by negative emotion. He ascended the staircase to their bedroom, taking a seat on her side of the bed and cradling the cup.

He was prepared for the next contraction, his concentration not on the sensation but what emotion he could derive from behind it. Shock. Fear. Loneliness. Things he had never wanted her to feel while she was in the middle of childbirth. He tried to reach out, to reassure her somehow that she would be alright, but even though she was reaching out, it was blind. She didn't realize that it wasn't a desperate mental cry for anyone; she didn't know about their connection. To push himself on her would be to confuse her, but how could he let her go through this alone?

Something jumped up beside him on the bed, Figaro pressing his head against Mr. Gold's side as if to give him strength. He smirked down at the cat before going back to concentrating. It would be difficult to sustain a connection over such a long distance, but it was necessary. He would not let Belle go through this alone.

**III**

Ben had spent hours juggling looking up information on the internet and reassuring Rose that everything would be alright, clasping her hand and not letting go except to check on her progress.

Her cries and whimpers were now turning into screams. Ben couldn't help but be concerned that something was wrong, though everything had looked fine. He clasped her hand in both of his as she sobbed.

"It's alright, Rose, it's just the home stretch. It'll be over soon," he murmured into her ear. She twisted as if trying to get comfortable, and he supposed eight hours in a bathtub would do that to a person.

"Tttthank you," she stuttered through her tears, "For, for being here… Not just now but…"

"Shh, it's alright," he gently cut her off, "I'm glad you're here, Rose. I'm glad you came in that night and asked if we had wifi. I'm glad you're in my life now."

Rose gave a choked laugh, "Even this? Having a baby in your shower?"

"Even this," he assured her, kissing her gently on the temple.

An odd feeling seemed to pulse from it but Ben didn't think anything of it, simply continuing to hold her hand. Rose's grip slackened as her breathing caught in her throat, eyes widening. She turned towards Ben with a mix of shock and horror.

"…_Bae?_" She croaked.

Ben had never thought Rose looked particularly dazed or absent, but seeing her now so alert and conscious, it was like comparing a zombie to a real person.

He smiled shyly at her, "Hello, Belle."

**III**

It was exhausting maintaining the connection for hours on end; nothing but sheer determination kept him reaching through the ether during each contraction, trying to wrestle some pain away from her. It never seemed to be enough, and he longed to simply magick it away. His poor Belle…his poor poor Belle.

The contractions started to get worse and even he was crying out from time to time. If he was feeling this much through a weak connection, what on _earth_ was she going through? He was never going to do this to her again, he couldn't stand Belle being in such pain, even with the reward at the end…

Suddenly he felt something warm and familiar pressing back at him searchingly. He had felt this before on many occasions when they were separated. It was Belle's very essence calling for him, her soul reaching for his. Mr. Gold eagerly reached back, feeling her as though his hand hovered over a fire. The pain was still present, but the loneliness was quickly fading, as well as the fear. Determination, peace and joy filled their place as they endured the pain together, his essence holding hers in the most intimate of ways.

His body may have been in Storybrooke, Maine but his mind was Somewhere Else, concentrating fully on being with his Belle.

**III**

"This is _not_ how I wanted us to meet," Belle groaned, leaning her head back as she prepared for another contraction.

"Technically you met me two weeks ago," Bae said, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, "It's just that you were cursed, and apparently childbirth cures it."

"True love's kiss cured it," she grunted.

"Wait, what?"

"I'll explain it later," she said, closing her eyes as her breathing calmed.

"Right…" He squeezed her hand before pulling away, "I'm going to go see what's going on down there."

Belle's eyes flew open as she stared at him in horror. He shrugged.

"It's a little too late to go to the hospital," he pointed out.

Before she could give a reasonable argument, pain shot through her and she felt the urge to push. She reached out for Rumplestiltskin and found him there, ready to comfort her. How he knew was beyond her and she wished she had the concentration to try and communicate everything. That she was back. That their daughter was coming. That everything was going to be alright.

She tried not to shy away from Bae at her feet and he, in turn, acted like a practiced doctor instead of a man forced into an awkward position.

"…I think you're fully dilated," he said, "You can start pushing."

Belle sat up a little bit, nails digging into the sides of the tub, "Have you done this before?" She joked breathily.

"With a few lambs," he offered.

She grimaced, "I am _not_ a ewe," she growled through her teeth.

Bae watched for a moment longer before straightening, "I'm going to grab a towel," he announced.

Belle was going to _kill_ Rumplestiltskin for doing this to her.

Bae pulled out a fresh towel from under the sink, glancing at Sadie. She was watching the proceedings in confusion and anxiety, knowing something important was going on but not knowing what. He mouthed an "it's okay, girl" before going back to the bathtub and to Belle. The shift still struck him, the change from a fearful sobbing mess to a determined pained warrior woman. If everyone had been as altered in the curse as she, it must've been a freaking waking nightmare that they weren't even aware of.

He felt a little self-conscious as he waited, aware of Belle's gaze on him. She must've been looking at him like he wanted to look at her, seeing each other with new eyes. He murmured encouragements as she strained, her breaths coming quickly and her muscles tensing with each push.

"There you go, Belle, that's great. You're doing beautifully, just keep going. It'll be over soon and then you can see your precious baby girl, hold her in your arms, let her see her mama…"

Baelfire tried not to gape, but apparently something showed on his face.

"What?!" She snapped, eyes wide with fear.

He wiggled a little closer, holding the towel in his hands like a catcher's mitt, "You're crowning."

It wasn't so much that Belle didn't feel pain as that it was secondary to everything else. The sensation of Mr. Gold's essence pressing against her own, cradling her as if she were in his lap instead of a cold bathtub. Knowing she had found Baelfire and that all of her husband's careful planning and waiting was finally at an end, and they could be a family. And the one causing this excruciating prolonged pain was the child she had been coveting for years upon years. She rode each wave with a mix of agony and joy, pushing with all of her might.

She watched as Bae's eyes widened, staring in shock and amazement. She snapped and he shakily replied that she was crowning. It was a hard concept to grasp (incredible pain aside) that soon her daughter would be a part of the world.

She tried to keep her eyes open as Bae gently reached forward, supporting Bella's head and clearing her mouth and nose. She tried not to scream as her body demanded more, harder, _now_.

"Her shoulders are coming out," Bae told her as she gasped for air, "Her chest… Almost all of her belly… Come on, Belle, just one more, just one last good push."

Belle let out a primal scream as she obeyed, putting all of her effort into the finale. And suddenly Bae was pulling back, wrapping the newborn up in the towel. Belle's legs, which had been bent in a squat for most of the proceedings, collapsed. She went limp, breathing heavily and forcing her eyes to stay open.

Bae grinned at her, "You did it," he said, as if it were a great accomplishment.

Belle felt more like it was the price to be paid to see her sweet baby's face and, as her breathing slowed, she could make out her daughter's soft noises.

**III**

Mr. Gold found himself out of breath, trembling with the vicarious pain, a pain he could not imagine. His beautiful Belle was so strong and he marveled at the thought that he was only getting a taste of what she was enduring. For them. For their child.

He lurched forward slightly as a great relief washed over him, a sudden absence of urging. The pain was no longer sharp, just throbbing. And then there was the happiness, a happiness so radiant it brought him to tears.

In that moment, he knew it was over. That his and Belle's child had joined them, and that he may care for her and hold her and watch her grow. The product of true love…_their_ true love. In that moment, every bit of pain he had ever endured in his long life was worth it.

He gently squeezed her essence one last time in an embrace and left her, struggling to stay conscious. He glanced at the clock.

It was 12:15 in Storybrooke, Maine. 9:15 in Seattle, Washington.

**III**

Belle was suddenly aware of the gory mess in the wake of the miracle. Dear gods…Rumple really should have warned her that giving birth was a bloodbath. Without thinking she lazily waved a hand, instantly clearing the mess.

Baelfire stared at her and she remembered magic was the entire reason he had used a magic bean to disappear into another world in the first place.

"Sorry," she murmured, "You…probably don't like that."

"I think I can make an exception for this," he mused.

Bella cooed softly and Belle was instantly riveted to her. She winced as she sat up, peering down at the bundle in Bae's arms. She was tiny, so tiny, like those countless newborns she had cared for before they went to new families. Thick dark hair covered her head, her skin flushed red and eyes screwed tightly shut against the light of the outside world. She squirmed in the towel as if she wanted to get down, as if she was already eager to explore the world. Of course, that was probably just Belle's projection.

She raised a hand and timidly touched the soft hair of her baby. _Her_ baby. Her _daughter_, and _Rumplestiltskin's _daughter. Her vision swam with tears as she tried to blink them back.

"My perfect Bellanotte," she breathed. Bella's eyelids twitched in reaction to her name.

"Do you have clothes for her?" Bae asked gently.

Belle nodded, "There's a bag of her things near mine."

He bit his cheek, "…I'm going to get her dressed and wrapped up, alright? Give you a couple minutes to recover."

She stared at him in terror but sighed and nodded. She placed a gentle kiss on Bella's head, then briefly touched Bae's cheek. Bae felt as though his whole body was warm from the simple touch.

Sadie followed her master curiously as he went into the guest room, finding the bag and rifling through it. He outfitted his little sister and then found a soft wool blanket, a soft blue with her name embroidered in gold. Bae briefly pressed it to his face, breathing in. It smelled like the past, and he'd bet anything that his papa had made this with his own hands. He wrapped Bella in her blanket before glancing around.

He didn't have a crib lying around, and he wasn't sure what to put her in. He tossed aside the painter's sheet that covered a replica of a spinning wheel and glanced down at the basket meant for wool. It would do for now.

"Sadie, watch," he commanded as he set Bella down. The collie approached the basket, sniffed at the infant, and then nuzzled the blanket in greeting as her tail started wagging. Her eyes were trained on Bella as Bae left.

Belle's eyes opened as he walked back into the bathroom, suddenly shy now that he had nothing to focus his attention on. He offered his hand down to her and she took it, unsteadily stepping out. Their eyes met and a smile spread across her face, barely fitting as her eyes lit up.

"Baelfire," she breathed before wrapping her arms around him.

Bae held her close to him, her grip wonderfully tight as her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"You have no idea how much your father misses you, how long he's been trying to find his way back to you…" She took a shaky breath, "And now we finally found you, even if it's just to know you're alive and well. We love you so much, Bae…"

He didn't even question the plural. How could he question the plural, when she had left everything behind to track him down? He pressed his cheek against the side of her head, fighting back tears.

"I want to go with you when you go back to Storybrooke," he confessed.

"Then you will," Belle said simply, burying her face into his shirt briefly.

She pulled away, smiling up at him, "You should probably call your father, let him know that I didn't die as he's sure to assume."

"In a minute," he promised, before helping her back to the guest room.

He tucked her underneath the covers before setting Bella into her arms. Belle cradled her as if she had been given the Golden Fleece, staring down in absolute adoration of the newborn.

He hesitated before speaking, "…I'm not going to tell him who I am yet," he admitted.

Belle didn't bat an eyelash, "Probably for the best… There's only so much good news your father can handle at once." Bae gestured to her phone by the bed and she nodded her consent. "One other thing…" Her eyes flicked up to meet his, "If he asks it was a hospital birth."

He picked it up, "Nobody asked questions and you got discharged early," he agreed.

"You were in the lobby the entire time."

"Oh come on," he objected, "Can't I at least be there holding your hand?"

"Fine, but you traveled no further down than my shoulder."

"Deal," he flipped open the phone and scrolled to "Sexy Beast".

Mr. Gold had moved so that he was between a home phone and his cell phone, resisting the urge to call repeatedly until she picked up. When his cell phone finally rang, he didn't even hesitate, answering on the first ring.

"Rose?" He asked hopefully.

"Ben," A male voice corrected.

He sat back against the chair, "Oh…" He took a deep breath, fiddling with his cane, "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," Bae assured Mr. Gold, watching Belle beam down at her precious bundle, "Just tired. Both her and the baby are doing great. Clean bill of health."

"That's…really good." He could hear the smile in his father's voice, even if his voice was lackluster. He hesitated before adding, "…thank you. For being with her."

"I told you I'd protect her."

Mr. Gold inhaled sharply, "…that you did."

Belle freed a hand and motioned for the phone. Bae smirked, "Hang on, she wants to talk to you."

"Who?"

Bae rolled his eyes, "Belle. Here." Before Mr. Gold could come up with an excuse, he passed the phone to his wife.

Mr. Gold listened to the shuffling on the other end of the line, inexplicably nervous. Nervous about what? About explaining what had happened during the birth? About her reaction to a miracle Belle would _kill_ to witness? If Rose didn't care about the child they had wanted for so long…

"Rum, she's perfect," she suddenly blurted out, "She even has your eyes."

He doubted even if he wasn't wrapped up in his own thoughts that her words would have come through smoothly. His mind stuttered to a halt as he fought to translate it into something feasibly Rose-like. He couldn't, and he hated himself for the hope blossoming in his chest.

"…what did you just call me?" He asked slowly.

"Rum," she repeated, and he could hear the smile in her voice, "Short for "Rumplestiltskin"."

Had he not been sitting, he might've fallen over.

"…Belle?" He asked timidly.

She could hardly keep herself from crying at the quiet hopefulness in his voice.

"Yes, it's me," she murmured, "I'm finally back, and I'm so sorry for all the pain I've caused," she met Bae's eyes, "I was positively psychotic."

Bae winked playfully at her.

"It doesn't matter," Mr. Gold insisted quickly and her face crumpled as she heard him starting to cry, "It doesn't matter now that you're back. My darling Belle… I miss you so much. I _love_ you so much."

"I love you too," she whispered, glancing at Bae again, "And I have a pretty good apology worked up for all of this."

Mr. Gold's throat ached to the point he wasn't sure if he could say it, but he forced it out anyway, "…will you come home now? Let us work out a Plan B for finding him?"

Belle smiled, knowing that a new plan would be meaningless once she showed up with Bae, "Yes. Yes I'll come home Rumple, and you can hold our child."

Mr. Gold gave a noise that was something between a squeak and a whine.

She sighed, "But this giving birth thing is quite tiresome… I'll get on Skype first thing in the morning, alright?"

"Of course," he instantly agreed, "Sleep well, my love."

"You should try and sleep too," she chided, though she knew full well he wouldn't.

"Okay. Give Bella my love."

"Of course."

"I love you so incredibly much, Belle," he whimpered, as though she were in danger of reverting once the call ended.

Belle smiled, "Love you more." She hung up, knowing if they started that game, they'd be up all night.

She hadn't realized that Bae had slipped away until he reappeared in the doorway with a glass of water, a couple of pills and a photograph.

"I don't have anything stronger than Advil, sorry," he said, setting the water and pills down on the nightstand.

Belle hadn't been paying much attention to her aching body, not with Bella and Bae and Rumple to dote over. Now that he mentioned it, though, there was a substantial amount of throbbing coming from her lower torso. She scooted over as he sat down on the bed, staring down at the photograph.

"There've been so many times I thought I'd never see him again," he murmured, "Not just literally, but figuratively too. That this Dark One business had completely consumed him and there was nothing left of his humanity."

He turned the picture around so that it faced Belle, and Belle recognized one of the candid shots Sidney had taken those first few days after they had awoken, half the town freaking out as the Golds actually showed signs of affection towards each other. Bae pointed at Mr. Gold, the tears finally coming.

"That's my papa," he choked, "Right there. You brought him back…you made him a man again. And I will never be able to thank you enough."

"Oh Bae," she murmured, freeing an arm. He tucked himself against her as though he were a child again, frightened of being carted off to war, frightened of losing his father like he had lost his mother.

Belle seemed to understand without him saying a word, rubbing his back as she rocked them both. He cried like he hadn't since the night he heard his name again, sobbing into his stepmother's shoulder.

"It's okay, Bae, it's all over," she murmured, "You don't have to be alone anymore. We're here, we found you, and we love you."

"I want to go home," he wept, "I want to be with my papa again."

"You will, Baelfire, you will." He felt her own body shaking underneath him, her own voice breaking, "The nightmare's over, I promise. We want you too."

They cried for awhile; from pain, from relief, from really any emotion they had been dealing with. And then, surrounded by her children and their dog, Belle fell asleep.

**III**

It took Mr. Gold a good half hour to stop crying and even then the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. It was a good sort of crying, though; a cleansing of all the torture of the past six months. For the first time in awhile, he felt as though everything truly was going to be alright.

He went down the stairs to return the chipped cup to his family altar and was surprised to see a shadow on the couch. Katja was still there, watching late night television, patiently waiting for news and for the first time in her life wasn't being annoying. She turned her head towards him eagerly.

Mr. Gold took a deep breath, and couldn't keep from smiling.

"Belle remembers," His voice started to crack, "Belle remembers…and I am going to be a father again."

**IIIII**

So I can't help but disagree with the show's precedent that your child is true love until you find your romantic partner. Yes, I can go with the whole "one true love", but does that mean Emma can't find her true love or worse, that once she does her true love's kiss won't work on Henry? So I went against canon (a-freaking-gain) and had it so romantic love doesn't trump familial. As lovely as that finale was, it put up a lot of bad implications.

Anyway, I think I'm just excited as the readers to have Belle back (you can tell by the faster turnaround she's easier to write than Whiny Bitchy Rose). And now Rumple needs to change his name to fit in with all of the B's.

Next time: Mr. Gold gets reunions. Henry gets a reunion. Snow gets a reunion. EVERYBODY GETS A REUNION! It's gonna be fluffy and epic and tear-filled and ohgawdsthefeels. AKA: This is probably how "Mr. and Mrs. Gold" should have ended.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own Katja and Sadie...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

Of course, Mr. Gold didn't sleep at all that night, and he tried his damndest the next morning to look like he had. He spent more time on his appearance in this one morning than he had for a week, feeling as though he was preparing for a first date. In a way, he was.

Skype's familiar jovial sounds beeped and booped and he glanced down, his heart hammering against his chest. Belle was inviting him to a call, or a conversation, or whatever the proper term was. He sank down into his computer chair, took a deep breath, ran a hand through his hair one more time and answered the call.

It took a moment before the image came, and it wasn't the guest bedroom with the Sounders pennant on the wall around her. It was an office with a bookshelf in the background. He met Belle's eyes and knew instantly last night wasn't a dream. Her eyes were warm and her smile was genuine.

"Good morning, Rumple," she said and Mr. Gold barely managed to keep from shivering in elation.

"Good morning, Belle," he murmured and if he had taken those words for granted before, he never would again.

His gaze lowered and he spotted a blue blanket. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly took in the tiny head peeking out from the folds, thick brown hair covering the top like an adorable toupee. Belle beamed, coaxing a little hand to curl around her finger so she could "wave" at him.

"Say "hi, daddy"," Belle cooed, ""I can't wait to meet you, Daddy"."

His face crumpled and though he couldn't keep from crying, he was sure as hell going to keep himself from _sobbing uncontrollably_ at the mere _sight_ of her.

"Hello Bella," he breathed, "Hello my sweet baby girl…"

Bella adjusted herself, apparently unimpressed by her first meeting with her father.

Belle giggled, "She's a little sleepy from breakfast," she apologized.

"She _is_ perfect," Mr. Gold insisted, staring at her a moment longer. He then turned his attention to Belle, "How are you, dearie?"

She shrugged, "All things considered, decent. I haven't felt this sore since the unicorns, but the Advil's helping," she rested back against the chair, "I'm probably going to take a couple of days to rest before heading back."

"Of course. When do you think you'll be heading back? I can book the tickets," he offered.

Belle glared at him, "Rumplestiltskin I am _not_ going to be that woman on a plane with the screaming newborn."

He frowned, "Train, then?"

"I'm driving," she said firmly. He opened his mouth to object. "You've waited this long, you can wait a little longer."

"But…Bella…"

The look in his eyes, that dang beaten-puppy expression, was almost enough to make Belle reconsider. But dogs weren't allowed on trains, and there was no way they were leaving Sadie behind.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, glancing down, "I'm sorry for all of this."

"It's not your fault," he said.

"And it's not yours," she insisted quickly, shaking her head, "It just…happened."

"Unfortunately," he muttered.

There was a knock from her end of the connection and Belle glanced off-screen.

"You tell him yet?" A male voice asked.

"I'm getting to it," she protested.

"Tell me what?" Mr. Gold interjected.

Belle bit her lip before turning back to the computer screen, "Ben's going to be coming back with me."

Mr. Gold only hesitated for a moment, "Alright, that's fine."

She studied him, an internal struggle playing out in her eyes. She took a deep breath and sighed, "Rum…don't you wonder _how_ I came to remember again, after everything you tried?"

He blinked. He had just assumed the true love act of giving birth was the reason. But what if…

"How do you remember?" He asked mechanically.

Belle bit her lip, "…true love's kiss."

Something stuttered to a halt in Mr. Gold's chest, his worst fears confirmed. Belle had found another, probably better for her than him and now she was telling him-

"You are a wicked, wicked stepmother," Ben concluded.

Belle glanced back as he came into view of the camera, the position of it cutting his head off, "I am not! I was hoping he'd jump to the right conclusion, since he's my actual true love!"

Ben tilted the chair back and Belle squealed.

"Bae, stop it! I mean it, Bae, knock it off! Bae!"

Bae…

It was as if he was no longer capable of thought, the name echoing in his mind. Belle would not casually use that name, least of all on someone who wasn't him. Belle's eyes widened as she realized what she had said, her lips folding as if to seal them off. Ben tilted the seat upright.

"I thought you said we were going to tell him once we got there because he'd bust an artery otherwise," he whined.

Mr. Gold was vaguely aware of how he was shaking, how his mouth opened but nothing came out. He stared at Belle, who was beaming at him and nodding. It took some effort but eventually he wheezed out a question.

"…Baelfire?"

The young man bent down and Mr. Gold saw him. Saw his thick dark slightly wavy hair, his brown eyes, his smile. Bae's eyes watered as he saw his father, maybe not in person but better than a photograph or even a call. His voice cracked as he spoke.

"Hello, papa."

Belle glanced between them, then started to get up.

"I'll leave you two alone then."

"Belle…"

She glanced back at the screen to see her husband staring at her, the words he couldn't say apparent in his eyes. The relief of the long journey finally close to ending. The admiration and thankfulness of her success. The hope this meant for them and perhaps even believing in a happy ending. Everything he could not say he conveyed in three magic words.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she said, though she also meant that she was ready to come home, ready for a family, ready to get to know her stepson and watch her husband with their newborn. She was ready to claim their happy ending.

Belle and Bella slipped away and Bae took their seat. Father and son watched each other as tears flowed freely, examined how different they looked in this world. And yet, they could recognize each other from a time in a land with magic untouched by it. A simple life, with just each other.

Mr. Gold hung his head, shaking it from side to side forlornly.

"I'm sorry, Baelfire," he said softly, "I let you down… I left you alone when I made a promise to never let you go. I…" Mr. Gold covered his face as if to hide as he sobbed out, "I broke our deal!"

"No," Bae breathed, leaning forward and wishing he could reach through the screen, "You said that if I found a way that you'd take it, and you did."

"But I brought magic here!" He exclaimed, "I didn't give it up like you wanted me to!"

"You brought magic back to find me…to protect Belle…" He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, "Listen, the nature of magic itself isn't evil; it's intent is what determines what sort it is. Even this curse, this darkness, doesn't have to be bound by its fate."

Mr. Gold glanced up at his son miserably, "Nothing's changed, Baelfire."

Bae grimaced, "How can you say that when I've met Belle, when I've read "Once Upon a Time"?" He murmured.

Mr. Gold glanced away.

"Regina tricked her, made you think she was a spy, then abducted her when she left you. She told you your true love was dead, then tortured her to try and get her to turn against you. You found out and went to save Belle…and you _did not kill Regina for what she did_," he shook his head, "The Dark One I knew would've killed her in an instant."

He wanted to object, wanted to point out how he needed Regina to enact the curse and besides that, it was Belle who kept him from running her through, clinging to him like a child. But hadn't Bae also pleaded with him to spare a life, and he hadn't listened?

Bae looked at him earnestly, "I know what it's like to make a decision you wish you never had, to have it be so painful the mere memory brings you to tears. There is no greater pain than honest regret… And I am done being angry over the past because I want a better future." He clasped his hands together, "…Reul Ghorm told me that I was the light inside of you that kept you human. I didn't know how powerful that made me until I met Belle. I didn't fully comprehend the magic of true love until a woman found me out of millions of people out of fifty states, stayed with me, loved me… All without knowing who she was, who you were, or who I was."

Mr. Gold smiled, "She's loved you for years, Bae, ever since I first told her about you," he said tenderly, "She has such a strong intuition…somewhere deep down she must have known that she had found you."

Bae wiped at his eyes, "She's an extraordinary woman."

"She is," Mr. Gold agreed softly, clearing his throat, "…I love you, Baelfire."

"I love you too Papa," he said quickly, as if he had been waiting just as long to say the words. He smiled, "I knew you'd follow me to this world."

A wave of emotion threatened to crush Mr. Gold. He had Belle. He had Bellanotte. He had Baelfire. He. Had. Everything.

"Alright," he took a deep breath, trying to think, "I don't know when the soonest flight to Seattle is, but I'll be there by tonight at least..."

"Papa, don't," Baelfire pleaded, "We'll be there soon-"

"I can't wait another day," he snapped, "I'll figure this out, I'll find a way past this talisman issue-"

"Papa _please_." Mr. Gold paused. "Let us come to you. Just wait a little bit longer and we'll all be there at home."

Home. The word had never sounded so sweet. He clenched his cane tightly.

"Alright," he finally relented, "Please…for my sanity make it soon."

**III**

No one was quite sure what had come over Rumplestiltskin. The bitterness of his wife's departure was gone, his recent anxiety forgotten. There was a lightness to his step, a healthy eagerness in his eyes and his smirk could almost qualify as a smile. Storybrooke's resident beast was the closest they had ever seen him to being truly happy…and that terrified them. The only one who wasn't concerned about the shift was Puss in Boots, who was practically a kitten at whatever turn of events had occurred.

"Belle remembers," Henry said confidently during the weekly mediation dinner.

Archie had proven to be the voice of reason a conscious was supposed to be. He had suggested that Regina, the Charmings, Emma and Henry start doing things together as a group (they all reacted violently to the phrase "family" when Regina was included). Henry served as a reminder to stay civil and since it was the only way Regina could see her son (she refused the term step-great-grandmother understandably), she reluctantly behaved.

"Maybe she just bit the dust and he feels vindicated," Emma muttered, passing the mashed potatoes. Both of her parents shot her a glare. "What?" She shrugged defensively, "Bad guys love them some revenge."

"B&W," Mary Margaret warned, shorthand for "black and white", a type of thinking they weren't allowed to discuss when it came to people. Archie preached that everyone was a shade of gray; there were no pure good guys or pure bad guys.

Emma wondered if he'd be so against calling Regina a bad guy if she force-choked _him_ because he was a little late in dropping Henry off.

"Unfortunately it's not that simple," Regina responded to Henry, dishing a section of lasagna onto his plate, "Triggers aren't enough to make someone remember, or else your grandparents would have been aware long before the curse broke."

"Then what _would_ make someone remember?" He inquired.

"Far as I know only true love's kiss."

Henry sank back in his seat, huffing, "But Mr. Gold's trapped here…"

"Then maybe he found a way to leave," Regina offered.

Henry glowered at her, "Then he would've been gone by now."

David, Mary Margaret, and Emma exchanged pointed glances.

"Maybe it was the something there," Emma offered.

"Possibly," David said.

"I wouldn't put it past true love's magic," Mary Margaret insisted.

Regina's forehead creased, "What are you talking about?"

"It's their secret," Henry muttered, "They've been talking about there being something there that wasn't there before since Belle left, but they won't say what the "something" is."

The former Evil Queen glanced around hopefully, thinking maybe since she was an adult they'd bring her into the fold. The Charmings quietly went back to their dinner.

"The lasagna's great, Regina," David said.

"Thank you," she muttered, both her and her step-great-grandson sulking as they were left out of the loop.

**III**

Belle only allowed herself a day of rest, which was far less than Bae rationalized but she insisted she'd be fine. He packed only what he couldn't live without, which wasn't much, and left the rest for Nancy to deal with. They started on their journey, four in the three-seater truck, Belle's iPod on shuffle and Sadie trying to figure out how to lie down in the middle seat she was allotted.

A new baby and a dog made for plenty of rest stops, though they tried to travel as often as they could. They spent the night in whatever hotel had a vacancy, late to bed and early to rise. Unlike the road trip she imagined with Mr. Gold, it was lively and optimistic, two travelers finally returning home. When they weren't doing impromptu karaoke, they took turns filling each other in on their lives, Belle having the bulk of what to say. At least Bae hadn't jumped ship and started hitchhiking back to Seattle at some of his dad's more gruesome endeavors.

They got a kick out of people cooing over the "couple" and "their" new baby, snickering once the well-wishers were out of earshot. They also made a point of stopping at each state line, taking pictures next to the "welcome" sign to let Mr. Gold know how close (or in his eyes far) they were.

Belle rocked Bella as she waited for Baelfire, shifting from one foot to the other as Bella gurgled contentedly.

"Bae, I'll leave without you," she warned.

"I'm almost ready," he complained.

A few seconds later he came out of the bathroom and Belle smiled.

"Don't you look handsome," she mused as he smoothed down his tie.

He shrugged, "Yeah, well, you know…"

Belle freed an arm and hugged him, "Relax, Bae," she murmured, "There's nothing to be worried about. He's more scared of you than you are of him."

"I'm not nervous," Bae insisted, continuing to play with his tie, "…I just want to look nice."

"And you do," Belle assured him, kissing his cheek, "You look like a younger version of him in that suit… A matching pair. It'll be fine," she said confidently, going to grab her carrying case of magic.

Easy for her to say, Baelfire thought ruefully.

They were in Maine. The words taunted Mr. Gold, a dog treat tottering on his proverbial muzzle. The same state. He begged Belle to just drive through the night, to get to Storybrooke so he could sleep with her curled up beside him. She just said that she'd see him tomorrow.

Meanie.

He stood in front of the bedroom window, staring down at the street as if he expected them to just drive up without warning. His entire body was on edge, phone pressed tightly to his palm. Only his eyes moved, darting towards any motion they sensed. His phone buzzed and he didn't even bother looking at the screen before flipping it open.

Though he had never been there personally, he was aware of what the picture was. The capital building in Augusta. The corners of his lips twitched up. They were a few short hours away.

He picked up his cane and he ran, ignoring the protests of his bad leg. He pounded down the staircase and raced out the door, fumbling with his keys. He vaguely recalled Figaro meowing after him, but he didn't care right now. Before he knew it he was going eighty through the town and yet it wasn't fast enough.

And then he heard sirens and he loathed Emma Swan in that moment more than he loathed anyone ever. He considered driving on… But he didn't imagine Belle would be too thrilled if he ended up in jail for resisting an officer the day of their reunion.

He pulled over and fidgeted the entire time he waited for Emma to approach the window. She was sure taking her sweet time.

Emma was more concerned than smug about catching Gold speeding. He didn't push the limit any more than the average person, and right now he was driving like his life depended on it. The window was already rolled down by the time she got out, the pawnbroker drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as his good leg bobbed up and down.

"What's up?" She asked as gently as she was capable of.

He glanced up at her, then quickly away as if embarrassed.

"She's coming home," he said softly.

Emma was stunned for a moment and then she quickly stepped back, "Well for god's sake, then, go! Sweep her off her feet and all that romantic jazz!" She barked.

Mr. Gold gladly rolled his window up, turned his car back on, and roared off towards the town line again. Emma watched him go with a wistful grin, before returning to her squad car and fishing out her radio.

"You there, Henry?"

There was a moment's pause, before the breathless boy answered, "Yeah. I thought these were only used for Operation Cobra things."

"This is an Operation Cobra thing," she insisted, "Your Agent Beauty's on her way home."

Mr. Gold found himself unable to sit in the car, pacing the spray-painted line as if it were a fence and he were a dog waiting for his master to return home. He ignored the ache in his leg as he continued his frantic pace for hours, eyes always focused on the bend in the road that led into Storybrooke. And then, a blue Chevy came into view and he felt like he was going to collapse.

Bae snickered at Belle as she started to squirm in her seat, neck craning as if that would help her see ahead. Sadie glanced at her questioningly.

"You need to relax," he chastised softly.

"I can relax once I've been home a few days and nothing catastrophic has happened," she grumbled.

They turned and Belle's heart pounded erratically as she saw first the black Cadillac, and then the man pacing near it. There he was, right _there_.

"Hold her," Belle commanded, thrusting Bella into Bae's arms.

Bae quickly managed to cradle her, keeping the wheel steady with an elbow, "What the… Belle!" He yelled, watching helplessly as she unbuckled her seat belt and threw open her door.

Mr. Gold's eyes widened fearfully as the passenger's door flew open and Belle jumped out. She recovered, somehow managing not to fall over, and started running towards him as fast as she could. Mr. Gold stood in place, quivering as he stared at the ever-approaching figure of his wife, back at last, Belle at long last…

"Rumplestiltskin!" She cried out his name and he dropped his cane, spreading out his arms as she ran straight towards him.

He had expected her to slow, to be able to grab her around her waist and twirl her around as though it were a movie. But Belle had never been a predictable, average woman. No, she was the most extraordinary woman on the face of this world and any other world. And she did not slow as she ran for him, ramming into him like a linebacker and tackling him against the car.

There might've been pain; he couldn't recall. Suddenly he was exactly where he wanted to be. He was surrounded by Belle, her leg wrapped around his, fingers curled into his hair, lips on his and tongue devilishly invading his mouth. He encircled her waist with his arms and retaliated, trying to kiss her harder than she was kissing him. It was a war in which they both ended up winning.

Eventually he drew back and Belle gasped, beaming down at him. He grinned up at her.

"I missed you too," he breathed.

She hugged him tightly to her, cheek pressed against his chest, "I'm never leaving you again," she declared.

"Mmm, that's under the assumption I'd ever let you out of my sight after this."

She giggled and he nuzzled her hair. It was adorable how she thought he was kidding.

The truck continued to creep its way into Storybrooke, parking on the other shoulder of the road. Mr. Gold glanced at it and stiffened. This was the moment he had both been looking forward to and dreading since the day he had lost him. There was no computer screen to hide behind now, nothing but terrifying reality.

"Sadie, watch," Bae commanded as he set Bella down, hopping out of the truck and turning around.

They stared at each other from across the road. No matter how badly they both wanted this, they were both afraid without a solid reason. Two deer trapped in the headlights of reality.

Belle smiled, bending down to grab Mr. Gold's cane and fit it into his hand. He took his free hand in hers and she gently tugged him forward, leading him step by step towards Baelfire. She paused a few paces away and reached out her hand towards Bae. He took it and she gently tugged him forward.

She took the hands of the two men she loved the most and fit them together before stepping back, the only thing keeping her from crying the fact that she didn't want to miss a single moment of their reunion. They stared at each other for a short minute longer, and then embraced fiercely.

Mr. Gold's shoulders shook as he wept into his son's chest, Bae rocking him back and forth. Bae rested his chin on his father's head, tucking him further against him, as tears trailed down his face.

"Forgive me," Mr. Gold begged raggedly.

"I already have," Baelfire assured him.

And it amazed Belle that she was allowed to be a part of that moment, a moment she had envisioned for so long now. Her nightmare had not come true; Bae had accepted her more than she ever hoped, and Milah hadn't risen from the grave yet to seek vengeance. As much as she wanted to keep watching, she knew that there was one other child Rumple had to hold.

It was different, his reunion with Baelfire as compared to his reunion with Belle. A part of him had always known Belle would return to him someday but a son he had lost three hundred years ago… And to be accepted so readily, to feel his boy's arms around him with a man's strength, the newborn infant he had held now standing taller than he? It was too much.

He wasn't sure how long Bae and he stood like that, holding onto each other so tightly, but it was eventually interrupted by a soft gurgle.

Mr. Gold lifted his head to see Belle nearby, the baby blanket he had made now occupied. Bae's arms dropped away as he smiled, gesturing towards the girls. Mr. Gold somehow made his legs cooperate as he moved towards Belle and the precious thing in her arms.

She was right. Bellanotte _was_ perfect, with her big brown eyes and soft pale skin. Her tiny mouth was agape as she twisted, looking up at him. There she was, completely oblivious to the miracle that was her existence, how desired she had been, a fantasy in the years of living in the Dark Castle and a slippery ideal in this world. And then Belle was holding her out to him, offering their child to him like the perfect coming-home present.

Mr. Gold's mouth fell open as he shook his head fervently, "I, I need to sit down first…"

This was too much. Too much happiness. He couldn't…he didn't know how to… Would he ever stop crying?!

And then something large, black and white squirmed amongst the trio, her tail making her entire lower body wag with it. Mr. Gold glanced down at it, confused.

"By the way, that's Sadie," Bae informed him, wiping at his eyes, "So you got a wife, two kids, and a dog all in one go… A family starter pack."

"I get to pick the next animal," he murmured subconsciously. Belle and Bae laughed and, at the sound of their laughter, he smiled.

Mary Margaret was on her way to the diner; Emma had sounded pretty eager for her to come meet her, but she had to finish grading a stack of essays. Emma didn't usually get excited (of course, her version of excitement was comparable to another person's mildly happy). She wondered what had warranted this change.

She absently noticed Mr. Gold's car as it came up to the stoplight she was passing, doing a double take as she saw a head poking out of the left-side backseat. A border collie was glancing around Storybrooke curiously, completely unaware at the absurdity of her being in Mr. Gold's car.

There was a tap on the window of the right side and Mary Margaret glanced down to see Belle smiling and waving at her. Mary Margaret's jaw dropped open.

"Belle!" She squealed. Belle giggled. "What on earth have you been doing?! Where have you _been_?!"

Belle slyly pointed towards the front seat and Mary Margaret caught a glimpse of Mr. Gold cradling a newborn that looked remarkably like Belle with Mr. Gold's eyes.

"Oh my god!" She screamed.

The driver asked Belle something and she shook her head, motioning for him to drive on.

"Belle…BELLE!" Mary Margaret shouted.

But the driver obeyed and they continued on their way, only the dog glancing back.

Mary Margaret sprinted to the diner, the bell attached to the door clanging noisily.

"Belle's back!" She announced.

Emma and Henry glanced up from their cups of hot cocoa with cinnamon.

"Yup," Emma agreed.

Mary Margaret went over to them, eyes only growing wider and wider, "She had a kid! She, she had a _baby_!"

"Yup," Granny agreed and Ruby's head whipped towards her grandmother in shock.

"What?! How did you…?"

"It's called "keeping my yap shut about something they obviously wanted to keep private"," Granny insisted, not looking up from her paperwork, "Not that you'd know much about shut yaps."

"And there was a dog," Mary Margaret continued, only getting more and more confused. She stared at Emma, "And who the heck was _driving_?" She shook her head, "I need answers."

"And what you aren't going to do is go and bother them right after she's come back," Emma said sternly, sipping at her beverage, "Unless you want to be turned into a squirrel or something."

"But…" Snow whined, "But Belle had a baby… Emma you have no idea…"

"How tired a new mother can be? No, but I can imagine, making it that much more dangerous to go to her instead of letting her come to you," she pointed at the seat next to her, "I'm sure it won't be long before she starts doing the whole "proud new mother" thing with Mr. Gold two steps behind making threats about touching his kid."

Mary Margaret sighed and sank down beside Emma. Henry tilted his head thoughtfully.

"…is the baby the "something there" you guys have been talking about?" He asked finally.

Emma nodded, "Yeah, kid, it just wasn't official."

Baelfire's eyes practically popped out of their sockets as Belle pointed out their house.

"This is yours?!" He murmured in astonishment, "For just the two of you?!"

"The three of us…four if you choose," Mr. Gold added shyly.

"A whole extended _family _could live in there," Bae insisted, Belle stepping out of the car.

Baelfire hesitated, knowing that in order to get out he'd have to let go of his father's hand. Mr. Gold gave it a reassuring squeeze, giving Bae the courage to draw away.

Figaro Gold stepped out from his spot on the porch as he heard the car come into the driveway. He had been patiently waiting for his master's return since the fool left the door open on his way out. But it wasn't just his master returning; there was another human, and his mistress. The mistress who no longer cared about him. Her bright eyes landed on him and the old smile she used to give flashed across her face.

"Figgy!" She cried, and she was instantly forgiven.

Figaro sprinted towards Belle as she crouched down, scooping him up into her arms. She covered his fur in kisses as he rubbed his face against her, purring thunderously.

"Oh baby boy I missed you so much, look at how big you've gotten! You're hardly even a kitten anymore! Oh, Mommy loves you so much and she's never ever leaving you behind again!"

Mr. Gold never thought he'd be jealous of a cat, but he was.

"I managed not to kill the mewling little pain," he pointed out pompously.

"Good for you," she said, scratching Figaro behind his ears, "Now you can graduate to not killing our baby."

Sadie wagged her tail uncertainly as she gazed up at Figaro, trying to get a good whiff of the smaller creature. Figaro's attention turned from his mistress to glaring down at the dog, giving a warning hiss that Sadie completely ignored.

"Oh be nice," Belle muttered, before setting Figaro down.

Sadie immediately tried to sniff at Figaro, who retreated, his fur standing on end. Sadie was not deterred, giving a low pleading whine for him to accept her friendship, all the while trying to stick her nose into Figaro's business. Figaro understandably did not take too kindly to that, and swatted at Sadie.

"You color-coordinated your pets," Mr. Gold remarked.

"That's kind of weird," Bae mused, "Maybe Belle and I have some sort of ESP between us."

"I think the universe just whispered that Figaro was the cutest of the bunch," Belle said, gesturing for Mr. Gold to give her Bella.

He stared at her as if she had tried to stab him in the heart with his own dagger.

"Oh knock it off," Belle scolded, "You can hold her later. Right now you and Bae need some time."

The two men exchanged a glance, and Bae smiled. Sullenly, Mr. Gold passed the infant back to her mother.

"Where are you going, then?" Mr. Gold asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

Belle nodded to the front porch bench, "Right there. Bella, the pets and I are going to keep back the mob of villagers that are bound to come recklessly curious as to my return and the family pack I brought with me. …well maybe it would just be the Charmings that would mob, but the point stands," Belle amended.

Mr. Gold couldn't help but feel that was a good idea, given their track record.

They went up the front porch steps together; Bae and his father first, then the girls, and finally the pets, choosing to occupy the lawn instead as they played some sniffing version of Tag.

"Oh, and don't worry over telling him about the Milah incident," Belle said lightly as she sat down. Mr. Gold stared at her. "We talked it over on the way here."

"Yeah, that was kind of crappy of you," Bae said, "I mean what she did was pretty bad but still, ripping her heart out and crushing it seems kind of extreme."

Mr. Gold glared at Belle with a look that could have melted steel. Belle held Bella closer, as if she were a little shield of protection.

"Thirty minutes," Mr. Gold growled, "You've been back thirty minutes and I already want to kill you."

"Wouldn't be the first wife you killed…" Bae murmured under his breath. Mr. Gold's jaw dropped as he gaped at Bae's irreverent joke over his own mother. Bae just shrugged, "That's definitely going to have to be a subject of discussion during our Bae-Papa time," he said.

Mr. Gold just shook his head in disbelief at the pair of them.

"Just remember that I'm the one who got your son back and managed to convince him not to freak out that you killed his mother," Belle chirped brightly.

He sighed, "You're going to be milking that for all it's worth now, aren't you?" He guessed.

Belle nodded.

He rolled his eyes, "I love you, you darling little pain in my neck."

"I love you too, you incredibly lovely asshole."

If that wasn't a sign of true love, Bae wasn't sure what was. He clapped a hand on his father's shoulder and Mr. Gold glanced up at him. There was a lot to talk about, and Mr. Gold wasn't sure he could explain everything away. But Baelfire was here, not yet bolting for the town line, giving him a chance. It was more than he could ever dream of.

Belle settled back against the bench, readjusting the blanket around Bella. She nearly jumped out of her seat as a young girl appeared perched on the railing, staring intently at her.

"Welcome back," Katja said gravely, "I'm here for your firstborn."

**III**

Mr. Gold talked with Baelfire until late in the night, maybe not discussing everything but quite a lot. Then he stood over Bella in her crib, a child finally in their unused nursery, looking so beautiful and perfect he could watch her all night… If it weren't for the fact his wife finally hauled him away at one in the morning to curl up beside her for some long overdue sleep.

He woke up the next morning to still find Belle sleeping beside him, to still find Bella in her crib and Bae helping himself to some coffee downstairs, as if it really weren't all a dream. They talked some more until Belle came down and greeted them both, setting Bella down beside him as she went to scavenge for breakfast. She chastised him for the lack of groceries and asked him if he could watch Bella while she went out shopping. Finally Bae decided to ergo the apple Belle offered him due to the fact she was a stepmother and chose a pizza slice of questionable age. Belle rolled her eyes and took the apple, pouring herself and her husband a cup of coffee each.

And then they all sat down around the table together and the scene was so incredible, so _domestic_… He started sobbing for no discernible reason. Belle and Bae immediately began blaming each other, while Belle rubbed his back and Bella stared at her own hand in fascination.

Belle insisted later that night on taking Bae to Granny's for the "most delicious hamburger he would ever have". Mr. Gold didn't like the idea of broadcasting his family so soon after their reunion, but he wasn't going to stop it.

He took one look at the crowded diner and turned around. Expecting this reaction, Belle caught him and held him still.

"You tricked me," he accused her.

"I didn't trick you, I just might have left out the part where there'll be a "welcome home" party going on while Bae partakes in his first Granny's burger," she said calmly.

"It's like a band-aid," Bae insisted, "Belle's return, Bella and I's induction into the Storybrooke community… Just get it all done and over with."

"If you're good, I'll get you a cone," Belle promised.

Mr. Gold eyed the group trepidatiously, "They know, don't they?" He glanced at her, "They know why you left Storybrooke… They'll know why I created the curse and had Regina cast it."

"Probably… What's so terrible about that?" She asked, noticing his expression.

He was silent. Belle had a pretty good idea what he was thinking.

She leaned in close so Bae wouldn't overhear, "I know you have a certain role in this town as the dark ruthless magician… If you really want to, you can go back to being the beast tomorrow, but tonight…" Her fingertips trailed lightly over his heart, "Can you just let them see a glimpse of the man I've always seen in you?"

Mr. Gold turned to look into her eyes, eyes impossibly full of love towards him. If she'd ask for the moon right then he'd damn the tides and bring it down to her.

"Just tonight," he said softly.

Her fingers wove through his and she held his hand tight as they faced half the town together.

Applause started as they entered the room and Mr. Gold fought the instinct to run. Loud refrains of "Welcome back!" and "Congratulations!" echoed from people he both knew well and hardly recognized. Belle laughed and giggled, blushing at the attention. He glanced back at him and Baelfire gave a disbelieving look, raising his eyebrows and inclining his head towards all the people. Mr. Gold shrugged; Belle was a popular woman when people weren't deathly afraid of coming around them.

"Belle!"

A smaller body wriggled its way through the crowd, eager to get to her. Belle beamed and accepted him as he warmly embraced her.

"Henry!"

"I knew it! I knew you'd remember!" He exclaimed.

"Mmmhmm…" She squeezed him tighter, "Thank you for sending the book… Bella loves it."

"Bella?"

Henry glanced over to where Bae stood with the bundled infant. He blinked in confusion at the stranger.

"Hi…" He said uncertainly.

Belle smiled, stepping around to stand at Bae's side. She touched his shoulder, "This is Baelfire," she announced, looking up at him with unmistakable pride. She was almost boastful as she added, "He's my stepson."

The group quieted at this news, shocked. No one had known that Rumplestiltskin had had a son, or even another wife. The boy didn't look much younger than Belle herself.

"Actually, can we not do the whole "step" thing?" Bae requested, "It has a negative connotation…and I'd like to think it's more than just the fact you married my dad," he smiled crookedly, a little bashful, "I kind of see you as an adoptive mother."

Belle stared at him a moment, "…excuse me while I go bawl my eyes out," she said softly, motioning towards Bella. Bae gave her over carefully and Belle leaned down towards Henry.

"Would you like to hold her?" She offered.

Henry nodded nervously and Belle demonstrated how to support a baby's weight. He carefully took the newborn into his arms and smiled down at her.

"She's cute," he said approvingly.

"Thank you," Belle murmured.

He felt odd as he met the little one's eyes, the product of true love just like his mother had been. He wondered if Emma had ever held him…if he had looked up at her like this before he went to live with Regina. He was pretty sure he had looked at Regina like this.

"How did you get your memories back?" He asked, his eyes never leaving Bella's face.

Belle smiled, "True love… The most powerful magic of all. Never forget that," she urged, before following his gaze down, "It's a story worthy of the book, the end of a very, very long journey. We could write a sequel to it."

""Twice Upon a Time"?" Henry asked with a giggle.

She grinned, "Maybe."

Mary Margaret and David were the first to approach Baelfire, most of the crowd too afraid to come near Mr. Gold even to meet the new guy. There was an alertness to the Dark One's body, glancing between his two children. Mary Margaret could understand Mr. Gold's fear; she hadn't wanted Emma out of her sight for a single minute after the curse broke.

"Hi," she said, offering out a hand to the young man, "I'm Mary Margaret, or Snow. I don't know which name you're comfortable with."

His eyes widened, "Your Majesty," he said, immediately moving to bow.

Mr. Gold gently rested a hand on his shoulder, "You don't have to do that here, Bae," he informed him gently.

"No, it's completely unnecessary," Mary Margaret agreed.

Bae glanced uncertainly at her, as if it were a trick, before shaking her hand, "I don't think there's really a need for anyone to call me "Ben" anymore… So Baelfire, or just Bae."

"Nice to meet you," Her husband offered his hand next, "I'm David, but most people here refer to me as Charming thanks to her," he nodded to Mary Margaret, who snickered.

She glanced back as David started asking about how Bae had come to be in a land without magic. Henry was shaking out his arms, Belle laughing as she straightened with Bella nestled in her hold. They caught sight of each other and Belle practically glowed with happiness.

Here they were, together at their individual happy endings, both with families that had seemed like impossibilities. Mary Margaret couldn't be more ecstatic at seeing Mr. Gold and Belle's child in her mother's arms.

Baelfire was used to small talk and new people, but it seemed like he was being bombarded every which way by them now, struggling to remember who was who. His father and new mother were friends with a variety of people, ranging from royalty to witches and warlocks and even to common people like he and his father had been. So much time had passed, and yet only looking at the sorts of people Rumplestiltskin rubbed elbows with had really cemented the fact in his mind.

A young girl sidled up to him, her face oddly angular but not unpretty.

"Hi," she said, grinning.

"Hey," he said.

"I don't think you're in the right place," she said coyly.

Bae arched an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"The Sexiest Man Alive contest isn't in Storybrooke," she shrugged, "I can give you directions, but it's a bit of a drive. Better spend the night with me and get a fresh start tomorrow."

"Katja!"

The girl jumped as if she had been electrocuted, looking for an escape route. Too late. Mr. Gold had already cornered her, snarling at her, "I swear to the gods if you hit on my son again I will kill you until you're dead!"

A shudder coursed down her body as she cringed, "He's… Oh gods… This must be how Leia felt when she found out Luke was her brother…" The girl beat a hasty retreat.

Bae stared at his father, not sure what he had just witnessed.

"And that was Katja, the Puss in Boots," he said, "I'd like to say you get used to her…but you don't."

Mr. Gold's protectiveness had been cranked up to eleven the minute they walked through the door, but there was nothing he could do. Bae seemed to be enjoying himself once he started to work his way through the crowd. Belle was passing around their baby like it was a fuzzy blanket one had to feel to believe. Luckily no one bothered him, knowing better, and so he found a good corner to keep an eye on his children, trying to fight back possessiveness and jealousy. Why should he share them with these people? It's not like they truly cared about the Dark One's spawn…

Katja-being-Katja aside, Bae was fine. Little Bella, however, was clearly not amused, getting fussier and fussier the longer this ordeal went on. Belle waved it off and some rational part of Mr. Gold's mind knew it was nothing serious… But his daughter was uncomfortable. She did not want this. And so, when the opportunity presented itself, he struck.

Belle enjoyed the party but honestly it was exhausting, answering the same questions over and over again and making sure they held Bella properly. She was almost ready to just hide in the corner with Rumple until it disbanded. It was nice that so many people cared about her…even though it hadn't felt like it back in her Caretaker days.

She glanced around for Ruby, who was supposed to be watching Bella. Her arms were empty, as were Bae's, as were everyone else's. There was a certain guest also suspiciously absent.

Belle sighed. After all she had been through Rumplestiltskin had still stolen her firstborn.

"It's alright, Bella," Mr. Gold cooed softly, "You're okay now… Daddy's got you. We can hide out here until the party's over, alright?"

The irritated red was already fading from Bella's face, her expression smoothing as her squirming stopped. He had taken her outside into the fresh air, sitting at one of the outdoor tables and letting her calm down. She gazed up at him and he swore that she understood every word he was saying.

"Daddy gets it… He doesn't like people either. But your mother and brother, well, they're more social than us," he murmured, "We like to be by ourselves, or with the people we love, and that's it. We don't need anything else," he sighed, "…I wish you wouldn't take after me."

His hand rested near hers, the size difference astonishing. Miniscule fingers groped about until they found his finger and held it tight. Mr. Gold smiled down at her, threatening to cry for the second time that day. He wasn't wrapped around just one of her fingers; he was wrapped around all ten, and maybe her toes as well. Already he knew he'd do anything for her; already he knew he'd be a sucker for her and he could only pray that he wouldn't spoil her to the point of rotting her moral fiber out.

She lay there, a life just beginning. He had no idea who she would be but he would love her. Love her as much as her mother and her brother no matter what happened.

He faintly heard the scraping of chair legs on stone as Belle pulled up a seat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You really should be inside," she scolded halfheartedly.

"Mmm."

"Not hogging the baby."

"Mmm."

"Pretending to care about others."

"Mmm."

"Aliens just landed and made peace with the vampires."

"Mmm."

Belle sighed and couldn't help but think baby-staring, no matter how disturbing, was the best way to spend their time.

"We made a really cute baby," he murmured.

"Much cuter than Ashley's," Belle agreed.

"That goes without saying. Thank you for growing her."

"Thank _you_ for giving me the seed _to_ grow her."

"Any time, dearie," he ran his thumb over her tiny knuckles, "She's a prodigy."

"Maybe."

"No, she _is_. A fuggin' genius. It's in her not-quite-unfocused eyes."

"I think you're just a proud father."

"Are you calling our baby an idiot?"

"Of course not, she'll read circles around the other kids once she's old enough. I'm just saying don't stress her out by calling her a prodigy because if she's not then she'll think she's failed us."

"No, never. I could never be disappointed in my children…either of them," he raised his voice a bit.

Bae smirked, making his way over from the diner's door to where they were, "Nice to know I'm not a disappointment," he joked, pulling up a chair on Mr. Gold's other side.

"Bae, how on earth could you be a disappointment?" He wondered.

Baelfire shrugged, "I dunno… Haven't gotten around to curing cancer yet."

"Neither has anyone else," Mr. Gold pointed out, leaning back in his seat.

His son's head dropped onto his other shoulder and there was silence for a few beats.

"I love all of you," Belle said.

"I love all of you too," Baelfire said.

"I love all of you more," Mr. Gold insisted.

Bella sneezed.

Mr. Gold tilted his head back and gazed up at the night sky, so full of ecstasy he could light up New York City on his happiness alone. He had a loving wife, two lovely children, and no financial woes. After three and a half centuries of dead ends, wrong turns, detours, and general obstacles, Rumplestiltskin finally had what he had wanted all along.

**IIIII**

So I just glanced at the update date and saw that it's nearly been two weeks when I've been managing my usual once-a-week even with this story. I freaking hate finals.

It's not quite the end yet; we still have an epilogue to go. And though I promised nothing but fluff, there will be hints of past angst involved. I'm actually really disappointed in myself that Neal didn't weasel his way into the story; he just came later than this story and the afterword doesn't quite cover how he showed up.

Next time: Le epilogue, nearly five years after this happy moment. The question of when Cora and Hook will join this story is answered.


	8. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I own Katja and Sadie...and that's pretty much all I can really claim.

**Four Years, Ten Months Later**

Mr. Gold awoke naturally. It was the first time in months he had done so, and it unsettled him. He glanced over at the baby monitor but it was turned on, full blast. He hadn't heard Bella last night.

He sat up and glanced to the side. The sleepless nights had caught up with Belle and she was out cold, chest rising and falling peacefully. The dark bruises under her eyes were a testament to the hell they had been enduring for months. Especially her.

"_It's your choice, ultimately. Either you give me the dagger or I kill your daughter. Simple as that."_

Today their uncertainty would end. Today they would be going back to their world, a world where their daughter could be free to be who she was.

Why hadn't he heard Bella's screaming last night?

Panic rose in him as he grappled for his cane, stumbling out of the room and across the hallway.

_"Hello Rumple, I was just calling to confirm Bella was coming over today. We're going to make apple turnovers. …no, Baelfire never dropped her off, Belle must be mistaken."_

_ "Papa, I've been at the shop all day today. I never spoke to Belle, and I never picked up Bella. You sure you heard Regina right?"_

He pushed the door to Bella's room open and was relieved to see her fast asleep on her bed, surrounded by her stuffed animals and picture books. She was curled on her side, hair a mess, arms out as if she were reaching for something. Her face was smoothed by slumber, thought it was usually as expressive as her parents. Even at this tender age she was beautiful, and he knew he'd have to fight the boys off in the future.

Here, in her pink-and-purple room decorated with her favorite animal the butterfly (though it was up for debate whether butterflies counted as animals), she looked so normal, extraordinary only because of her beauty and the expanse of her love. He carefully eased himself down onto the bed beside her, brushing the curls from her face as her eyelids twitched. His little princess. His darling Bellanotte.

The decorative buttons near the throat of her nightgown were undone, revealing the beginning of the pink scar that cut across the left side of her chest. Mr. Gold cringed.

_"Who needs the Dark One's dagger when you have his daughter's heart?"_

Nothing could ever erase him witnessing his daughter's pain as her heart was squeezed. Nothing could ever take away the sound of Belle's screams as she watched her little miracle crumple to the ground. And the helplessness of the situation…a little girl held hostage, one false step equalling her death. Those three weeks of uncertainty were the purest form of hell Rumplestiltskin had ever endured.

Bella wasn't even part of the problem; she had just been used. His sweet innocent little girl paying for her father's past… It seemed heartless even for Cora.

Her eyelids quivered and then flew open. She jerked up and scrambled back.

"It's just Daddy. Bella, sweetie, it's me, it's just me," he cooed, admonishing himself for startling her.

She stared at him a moment, taking much less time with him than she did examining other people, and slowly relaxed.

"I'm sorry, dearie," he murmured, "Daddy didn't mean to wake you up. I was just worried because I didn't hear you last night."

Bella blinked and then she smiled, "I didn't have nightscares!" She said proudly.

The words were sweeter than any song to him.

_"She's not going to recover from this overnight; being kidnapped and held hostage, watching her parents suffer knowing she's the cause, seeing the mobs who want her dead because she defended her family… It would be overwhelming for an adult, nonetheless a four-year-old girl."_

_ "Listen, Cricket, I'm not asking for a miracle recovery. I just…I just want her to stop waking up screaming. I just want the nightmares to leave her alone."_

_ "Unfortunately it's all part of the process. I know you don't want to hear this but it could be years before they stop and even then they could resurface. No one can change what happened to Bella. All we can do is let her know she's loved and safe, and that nothing's going to happen to her family. The rest is, regretfully, up to her."_

"I'm glad, sweetheart," he said, resting a hand on her leg, "Now, why don't you and I go to Granny's for breakfast to celebrate, hmm?"

"And Momma?"

He smiled, "No, let's let Momma sleep in. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"Moving day?" She guessed.

He nodded, "Moving day."

_"I know you want to believe that it'll work out, Bluebelle, but Rump's right. The only way to protect Bella from all these nutjobs is to go back to the Enchanted Forest. I mean honestly, it's safer for all of us magically inclined folks, people coming in and we not being able to get out."_

Belle hated it when he let Bella dress herself, but he didn't see any harm in it. She was four, no one expected her to be a fashion icon. He showered and dressed in the guest bathroom to keep from waking Belle, just about ready when he heard little footsteps running down the hall, stopping with a little hop outside the door.

"Can I come in?" She asked.

"Yes, dearie, I'm decent."

She pushed open the door and he wasn't sure if she matched on purpose or accident. What Bella knew and what she didn't was an utter mystery constantly being unraveled. Her hair was combed, light-up fairy sneakers strapped on and the band of her little gold purse on her shoulder.

"You want to help Daddy with his tie?" He asked. Bella nodded, and scrambled onto the toilet's lid.

Small careful fingers took hold of each end of the tie, slowly going through the motions he had taught her. Her forehead creased in concentration and it took all of his effort not to laugh at her adorably intense focus, lest she think he was laughing at her job and not her expression. He beamed with pride as she slowly slid the knot up; he had only shown her a few times and she could already do it on her own.

"Beautiful, sweetheart, perfect job."

Her hand continued up after she finished, dipping underneath his collar. Her fingers pressed softly against his pulse point, rubbing tiny soothing circles.

"Thud-thud, thud-thud," she mumbled.

His knuckles rested gently against the side of her throat, "Thud-thud, thud-thud," he agreed.

_"Belle, has she…has she been feeling your neck?"_

_ "For my pulse? Yeah, why?"_

_ "She's done it a couple of times today... You know what it's about?"_

_ "…I think she's checking to see if we still have our hearts."_

Bella pranced ahead of him as they headed towards the car, acting much like her old self today. She twirled on her heels to face him as she stood near the car door.

"Are we gonna take a plane to our new house?" She asked.

"Not quite," he unlocked and opened the door for her, "All of the crocodiles in Storybrooke are going to cast a giant spell to take us to that other world."

She scrambled up into her car seat and raised her arms expectantly, "Like in the book?"

He strapped her in, "Exactly like the one in the book."

Bella's feet thudded against the seat as she swung her legs, the sound oddly reassuring as he started the car. No need to chastise her since neither her mother nor her brother were in the passenger's seat to feel it.

"Can I bring Choco?" She asked.

"Of course."

"And Nemo? And Big Simba?"

"Yes, all of your stuffed animals will come with us," he assured her as they drove away.

She frowned thoughtfully, "…I didn't pack," she warned him.

"That's alright; Mommy and Daddy will pack your things for you."

"…I want my Eskimo coat, not the purple one. There's some pictures of snow."

"Good thinking; I'll make a note of that."

Granny's was unusually quiet for a morning. Most likely people were still packing, or sleeping in. Usual routines were abandoned now that they wouldn't continue indefinitely. Bella shied a little closer to him as they walked in, leaving his side only to grab herself a booster seat.

The Lucases had occupied the gray area between Pro-Life and Pro-Death, neither siding with the Golds nor with Cora, the Blue Fairy and Whale. Not that Cora truly believed the propaganda she had spread about Bella, but she had brought Bella's existence to the forefront of every Storybrooke citizen's mind.

_"Their child is a fluke, something outside the laws of magic. The Dark One should never have been able to father a child. It's a liability and too dangerous to be kept alive."_

_"She'll be unstable, not just with her magic but mentally. Caught between the light and the dark, a child of true love but born with cursed blood… She will never be at peace with herself." _

_ "I'd like to think I've learned my lesson about messing with the laws of nature. Some things need to be stopped before they start."_

Hook for about a month, Cora for about a month…their aftermath for at least three. Some people still would not forget what had been brought to their attention. Some people refused to see the innocent young girl her family loved and chose to look at what she had done out of context.

"Hi Granny," Bella greeted the elderly woman softly.

Granny smiled, "Hello, Bella. What can I get for you two today?"

"The usual, please," Mr. Gold said.

"Of course," she muttered, as if it would be some great plot twist if he ordered something different, "What to drink?"

"Coffee for me. Bella?"

"No, Daddy gets milk," she insisted, "He has to be a crocodile today. Can I have milk too please?"

Granny, like everyone except for the Golds, had no idea what Bella was talking about. Hook's little nickname for Rumplestiltskin had lost its sense with his jacket and odd skin, so Bella had jumped to the conclusion that all magic wielders were known as crocodiles. It was the least harmful thing that the marauding cur had done.

Granny glanced at him and he sighed, "Two milks, then."

Damn his child for knowing she could control him with a smile and a sweet tone of voice. She was just like her mother.

Bella's legs went back to swinging, a lot more reserved than they had been during the car ride, "Is everyone going into the book?"

"Everyone," he promised.

"Bae?"

"Of course."

"Emma? Henry? _Neal?_"

"Yes, even Neal." Some fathers would do anything for their child…including starting over in a new fantasy world.

Bella tilted her head to the side, "_All_ of the crocodiles are gonna help you?"

He nodded, murmuring a "thanks" as Granny came by with their glasses of milk, "It's a big spell. Daddy's going to need a lot of help…from grown-ups," he added quickly.

She considered this, "Momma's gonna help you, because Momma always helps you… Is Auntie 'Nina gonna help?"

_"The heart hasn't left her side; she doesn't even trust me with it. I'm trying, Rumple, I'm trying as hard as I can, but all I can do is make sure she doesn't hurt Bella further. I've been persuading Bella to eat a little, but she still doesn't sleep much. It's torture, watching her go through this, being so __**useless**__. …she has her mother's spirit, though. The fire in her eyes…she's not afraid of death. She's only afraid of losing her family."_

"Yes, 'Nina will be a big help," Mr. Gold assured her.

"And Kitty Kat?"

_"What's Katja up to?"_

_ "Trying to explain to Bella why everyone's upset, that it's not because of what happened to Cora but how."_

_ "…Belle I've been the Dark One for centuries. I have never seen a human child develop such magic; most endowed don't even have the ability until after puberty. What on earth are we going to do?"_

_ "What we've promised to do since she was born; love and support her. I know she's terribly young but we need to explain her options; that she can either abstain from magic or learn how to control it."_

"And Kitty Kat."

Bella glanced down at her lap, "…are we going back because of me?" She asked quietly.

Mr. Gold sipped at his milk, searching for the right words, "…a lot of people have been wanting to go back, but Daddy didn't want to. He wanted to stay here so he could be as normal as possible for you, Bae, and Momma," he took a deep breath, "Daddy just changed his mind about helping them."

"Because of me," Bella repeated flatly.

"Because of other people trying to hurt you."

_"Daddy please, please don't let them take me away! I don't want to die, Daddy, I want to live! I know I'm a monster but I can be a good monster I promise! I'll be a Glinda just please don't let them kill me!"_

She leaned back in her seat, digesting the information, "…can I have a pet dragon when we get there?"

Mr. Gold tried not to smile, "Ask your mother."

Granny arrived with their usuals; an omelet with hash browns and bacon for him and a pancake with a whipped cream smiley face for Bella. He carefully poured the syrup for her and, for his trouble, she stole a piece of his bacon and pretended she was very sneaky about it.

"Will I still get to see Lexi and Uncle Gaston?" She asked, scooping up the whipped cream before it was drowned in the syrup.

_"Rumplestiltskin__,__ we found where your daughter ran off to after the window break. Alexandra's been hiding her under her bed to protect her... I keep telling her that she needs to go home but Alex keeps saying that they'll find her there and kill her, and that she'll never let her friend die."_

_ "Don't worry, Bella, it's only for a little while, until those raving lunatics settle down. …I know this has to be hard on you both, but no one's going to suspect an ex-fiancé of harboring his married past lover's child. Maurice? We haven't really spoken since the fall-out. …save your breath, Beast, your threats are meaningless because I __**refuse**__ to let anything happen to the little one. My sword is the only magic I need."_

"I'm sure we will, just not maybe as often as now," he shrugged, cutting up half of the pancake for her, "We don't have any neighbors near our new house."

Bella frowned, suddenly uncertain of this new world they were venturing to.

They ate their breakfast and then Bella pulled out the mirror from her purse. It was a pretty thing, silver with a handle. She looked down into it.

"Show me Momma," she commanded and the reflective surface pulsed green for a moment.

_"She's terrified of losing you two and even with these trust issues Baelfire… I'm not usually an advocate for children having cell phones, but if there was some way that she could be able to reach you or Belle, to see that you're alright, I think it would really help ease her conscious." _

She studied it for a moment, then put the mirror away again, "Momma's awake," she informed him.

"That's good," he paid the bill with a generous tip and they started towards the door. He licked his thumb and wiped off a bit of syrup that went astray from her mouth, "I'm going to have to drop you off before I go to help Momma."

"Where am I going?" She asked.

"It's a secret," he insisted, grinning wickedly down at her.

Bella immediately clung to his pantsleg and tried to "pleasepleasepleaseplease" her way to making him tell. Mr. Gold was resilient in his game, but was fair enough to let her guess as to who might be babysitting her.

It was a short walk to "Game of Thorns", so Bella didn't run out of guesses beforehand. She paused long enough in her rambling of her various babysitters to notice how close they were to the flower shop. She froze, letting out a soft whimper as she hid behind him. As much as Mr. Gold couldn't stand the man, his stomach clenched at Bella's distress.

"It's alright, Bella, he's not in there," he assured her softly, smoothing down her hair.

_"Why doesn't Papa love me anymore?"_

_ "…I… Sweetheart… It's… It's not that… Well…your grandfather's a simple man; he likes predictable normal things. He…doesn't trust what he doesn't understand."_

_ "Like you and Momma."_

_ "…yes, like me and Momma. What you did to Cora…it scared him a little bit, because you're unlike anything anyone's ever known. Maybe with time he'll remember that you're still his little granddaughter."_

_"…all I did was give her a time-out, like you gave Gaston when he was gonna take Momma away."_

_ "Yes, but all the crowd saw was her clothes after the magic; they thought she turned into dust or something. They didn't know that you turned her into a rose."_

Mr. Gold could never forgive Maurice for breaking his wife and daughter's hearts at once. Even Belle had drawn the line when she saw her father amongst the crowds crying for Bella's blood…and that image scarred Bella. It was the second most heartbreaking outcome, the first being how Cora's disguise had caused Bella to be utterly distrustful of her big brother, even after all of the explaining.

Bella's timidity faded as she saw Gaston step out of the shop. She squealed and ran towards him, arms wide open like she had once ran towards Bae.

Mr. Gold had to admit he had gained a lot of respect towards the former knight through all of this, Gaston's steadfast belief that Bella was no more malicious than Belle never wavering for a second. He had done all he could to help, and had earned his spot in Bella's expansive mostly-people-she-adopted family.

He supposed that meant Regina had earned her spot as "Auntie 'Nina" as well, but he was a bit more stingy about that title.

Gaston grinned at Bella's approach, stooping down, "Little Bell!"

She giggled as he scooped her up and twirled her around, threatening to tip her upside down to her amusement. Mr. Gold took a few steps closer, unable to keep a small smile from slipping out. Today was definitely progress.

Gaston set Bella back down on her feet, ruffling her hair, "Your father tells me you're going to help me in the shop today, is that right?" She nodded eagerly and he grinned, "Better go get started then. There's some wilted flowers in the back that need your special touch."

No sooner said, she raced inside "Game of Thorns", and the two men shared a chuckle.

"It's nice to see her back to her old self," Gaston murmured.

"It is," Mr. Gold agreed.

Gaston turned to him, "You'll call when it's time."

Mr. Gold nodded, "You know where it is?"

Gaston nodded.

After all this time, they still didn't have much to say to one another, and Mr. Gold supposed that would never change. So he said the only thing that really mattered.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Gaston replied without asking what he was being thanked for. If Mr. Gold had to explain the "thank you", it would have to cover too much.

Mr. Gold nodded to him awkwardly, then turned around and walked back towards where he had parked the car.

Sir Gaston loved Belle; always had and always would. But it wasn't the sort of love that balladeers trumpeted about, or what she had found in the end. It was a protective big brother love, a fondness that never quite blossomed into anything more. His engagement to Belle had been because her father wanted her to marry someone she could grow to care for, and Gaston didn't mind the odd little duckling, even if he didn't agree with her need to adventure. Too many books had made her think it was easy to swordfight or avoid danger; she had never seen the light of the battlefield. He had and he knew it wasn't the easy feat her fictional accounts made it out to be.

And yet despite everything he and Belle's friendship had remained, and now her daughter considered him her uncle. He hadn't much cared for the infant, but now that she was old enough to play with and could say what she needed rather than crying, he found he actually liked her. He didn't buy into this whole "she's dangerous" nonsense; she had been practicing magic in the back of the flower shop for almost a year by the time this thing with the evil sorceress went down.

He didn't know it was something to be concerned about. He figured they knew.

He went towards the back, trying not to wonder as he often did about how Maurice could reject Bella, or Belle for that matter. He could understand the opposition to magic and dark curses…but couldn't he see that they were both good deep down? And Rumplestiltskin…well he could have done all sorts of horrible things to Belle, but he didn't. The Beast wasn't too frightening when he smiled at his wife, or walked alongside his son, or held his daughter.

Bella hadn't set to work like he had imagined she would on the wilting flowers. He had watched her so many times tenderly touching the stem of a dying plant, her breathing controlled and her eyes focused, willing the plant to life. There was always a shimmer as the flower slowly revived, even more beautiful than it had been in the prime of its life. She loved working on the plants. She loved helping in general.

She turned to look at him and he raised an eyebrow, "Are they not dead enough to your liking, my lady?"

She shook her head, "I wanna do something else."

"Alright," he said amenably, "What do you want to do?"

"Take off your pants."

Gaston mentally reeled back. Bella looked unapologetically up at him.

"I need to see your robot legs," she explained.

He glanced quizzically at her before reaching down to roll up his pants, revealing his prosthetic legs. He had gotten so used to them he hardly thought twice anymore; missing his flesh and bone was a small price to pay to be able to walk again.

"You need to take your socks and shoes off, too," she said, "And you might wanna sit down."

He complied, a little concerned as to what she was going to do.

Bella knelt by his legs as he sat on a nearby stool. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. He stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"Sorry," she mumbled. He didn't ask what for.

She held up her hands towards his knees and Gaston felt an odd sensation. Prickles were spreading down the length of his leg. But they were only phantom sensations, he didn't really… He glanced down to see before his very eyes his prosthetic legs turning into the flesh that had once been there.

"Bella…" He gasped, but the young girl was too deep in her focus. In mere moments, Gaston's right leg was back. He could spread his toes, flex his ankle, _feel_ actual sensations.

Bella took a few deep breaths before starting on the other one, her hands starting to tremble and her face pinching up as if she were struggling.

"Bella, don't overexert yourself. Bella!"

Just like her mother, she paid Gaston no mind and soon she was finished, both of his legs restored. She collapsed against him and he was worried that she had passed out.

"BELLA!"

He jumped off the stool, feeling the impact and the coldness of the floor. He knelt down beside her, scooping her into his arms. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused.

"Bella you can't do that! You can't push yourself too far!" He scolded.

Big brown eyes sleepily glanced up to meet his, "I just… I just wanted to thank you…for hiding me when it wasn't safe…" Her head drooped onto his forearm, but she kept his gaze, "…you happy?" She asked.

Gaston smiled, laughing in amazement, "Yes Bella…thank you."

"I'm going to be good," she said firmly, "A good witch, like Glinda, not a bad one like Cora."

Gaston felt his eyes water, and he wished that she didn't have to prove herself to all of those blind idiots who couldn't see that even though she took after Rumplestiltskin in a lot of ways…that wasn't necessarily bad.

"I know, Little Bell, I know."

**III**

Belle would've been more moved at the unity of the magical forces in Storybrooke if she had her children with her. Since they were absent, she was more concerned about _them_ than good joining forces with evil for one goal.

She had underestimated the town's desire to go back to their homeland, probably because she was with the one man who was keeping it from happening. Now that Bella's life was in danger from anyone with the balls to go against her family, he had changed his tune. The civil war that had rocked Storybrooke in the wake of Cora's death had clearly demonstrated that the Dark One and his Caretaker weren't invincible; mob hysteria about another potential Dark One had spread and no reasonable explanation could persuade them that she was just an unusual little girl. She was only dangerous if they continued to treat her like a monster.

The pain of seeing her own father amongst the crowds petitioning for his grandchild's death had torn her apart, the last straw. He would never be welcomed into her life again.

She tried not to think about that too much.

She glanced around at the area around the old wishing well, the entire population of Storybrooke gathered around, waiting to go home. Families stood close together, holding onto each other as if worried that this new spell would tear them apart again. There were so many little ones… Bella and Alexandra had just been the beginning of a baby boom. It was enough to put Rumplestiltskin out of business, she mused.

"Where's Bae?" Mr. Gold asked urgently.

"He went to go pick up Bella from Gaston," she turned away from her quiet observance of other families to her husband.

The concern on his face was almost laughable, as if he thought they would leave without their children. She smiled and took his hand, squeezing it gently. He met her eyes.

"Do you think this is the right thing?" He asked softly, knowing full well it was too late to turn back even if she said "no".

She nodded, "We've never belonged her, Rumple, no matter what we tried to tell ourselves. Besides…" she smirked, "You're the one who tore them from their homes. It's about time you fixed it."

He leaned in and kissed her, and she held on to the back of his head. He complied as she lengthened the kiss, knowing full well that this could be their last. Unless they gave up their responsibility that came with the power…

"Bella, eyes closed. Dear gods, you two, I was only gone for like five minutes!"

They pulled away from each other to see Bae a few strides away, Bella clinging to him in a piggyback ride.

"Can you tell your ex that there's no need for him to pull a freaking _sword_ on me next time you talk to him?" Bae grumbled, "I understand there's a need for security measures but really, if you guys didn't tell me he was coming with Bella how was I supposed to know?"

Belle smiled softly, "I'll tell him to be easier on you the next time I see him."

There was a beat as they were reminded that they didn't really know _when_ they'd see their friends and extended family again unless they poofed into their castle. That their lives were going to change.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Bella asked patiently.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he started to adjust her so that she rested on his hip, her cheek pressed to his shoulder in quiet trust.

They crowded closer, as though shielding each other from a sudden chill. The Blue Fairy glanced at Mr. Gold for confirmation.

Mr. Gold surveyed the groups. He could see the Charmings, Emma, Regina and New Guy Neal hovering over Henry, while David and Mary Margaret hovered near Emma. Alexandra was waving goodbye from where she stood between her parents to Bella, who waved back sadly. He met Katja's eyes and she smiled, standing in a little ring as Jefferson, Grace and herself all held hands. Gaston was nearby…

He glanced at Baelfire, the reason he had come to a world without magic. He expected him to try and make a break for it, or to beg him to stay away from their old world. There was a grim determination in his boy's eyes, a look that so clearly said that he hadn't run away so far, though he had had plenty of reasons, and he wasn't about to run now. Whatever happened when they returned to the Enchanted Forest Belle and he would make sure it never came to that breaking point it had all those years ago.

He looked at Belle, who had followed him for all these years with every pursuit so that they may have a happy ending. She looked…excited and he realized that maybe she _did_ prefer their world, just not the version of him that was bound to it. He nodded to the Blue Fairy, and she began the final steps.

"Bella, Daddy's going to look a little different in this world," Belle warned, "But he'll still be Daddy."

"Will he look like the Rumpledpigskin pictures?" She asked.

"Yes," Belle tried not to smile at her attempt to say her father's name, "Like those pictures."

Green smoke started to billow out of the well and Bae's hand reached for Mr. Gold's. Mr. Gold let his cane drop as he wrapped his free arm around Belle's waist. Belle's hand rested on Bae's shoulder, her other hand rubbing Bella's back. Bella gave a small whimper and buried her face in Bae's shirt. Bae closed his eyes. Mr. Gold closed his eyes. Belle watched the coming magic with a bit of fascination.

Mr. Gold felt it more than he actually saw it, the change in his physicality. His leg no longer bothered him. His hair felt greasy and unkempt. His nails felt caked and gnarled and his teeth…well he didn't want to think about how unbecoming they were likely to be. He opened his eyes to see them standing in front of the Dark Castle's massive doors, overlooking the gardens that had long since died. Belle opened her eyes, glancing down at her golden dress. She sighed.

"I couldn't have kept _one_ pair of jeans?" She complained. He was embarrassed as his first "nee" in over three decades slipped out.

Baelfire opened his eyes, jerking back reflexively. The minute he realized his gesture he tried to recover, but Rumplestiltskin had already seen it.

"I'm sorry it's just…it's going to take time," Bae apologized.

Rumplestiltskin nodded, "I understand."

Bella glanced up, out towards the expansive gardens, then back at her mother and father. She looked at her mother first; a girlish delight gleaming in her eyes as she saw her all dressed up, then glanced down at her own purple princess dress. Rumplestiltskin braced himself as Bella turned her eyes on him…but wasn't prepared for what happened next.

She took one look at his hideous face, his inhuman eyes, his beastly hair, and _giggled_.

"What?" He said defensively and she only laughed harder at his higher-pitched voice.

"Daddy's a fairy crocodile!" She teased.

Bae cracked a smile, "Bella, it's not nice to point out fairy crocodiles, even if they are incredibly sparkly."

"He took a bath in fairy dust!" She declared, and Rumplestiltskin pouted.

"Did not," he mumbled. Belle rubbed his back comfortingly.

Bae finally glanced up, "By the gods!" He shouted, nearly dropping Bella.

Belle grinned wryly, "And you were impressed by the house," she mused.

Bella's eyes grew to roughly the size of baseballs as she stared at the intimidating stone fortress. She squirmed down and raced towards the doors, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Is this ours?! Do we live in a castle?! Like a real-life _princess_?!" She screamed.

Rumplestiltskin grinned, "Yes, dearie… This is our home." He flicked his wrist lazily and the doors opened, to Bella's jaw-dropped amazement. All she could do was screech and dance around in circles, as incoherent as a baby finding its voice.

Bae glanced suspiciously at his father, "…who did you kill to get this?" He asked.

Rumplestiltskin straightened, offended, "No one," he insisted, "I found it abandoned and fixed it up…though I might've used a teensy bit of magic with the refurbishing," he admitted.

Bella ran back and grabbed her brother's hand, "C'mon, Bae, we've gotta go exploring!" She begged.

He glanced at Rumplestiltskin, "…any booby traps we should be careful of?"

"Don't venture into the dungeons; I can't remember if I left anyone down there or not," he quipped.

It would take awhile for Baelfire to get used to his dark humor, he supposed from the look on his face. Bae rolled his eyes and then followed after Bella as she immediately took to the castle's foyer, despite the light ruin the curse had caused.

Belle's arm snaked around Rumplestiltskin's waist, her head resting on his shoulder as she watched them run around their new home.

"We're going to have to fix it up a bit," she remarked, "That curse took its toll."

"Indeed, it did," he rested his cheek on her head, "I never thought this fortress could be a home… Toyed with the idea when you came into my life, but I never imagined I'd come back after finding Bae."

"Do you believe you made the right decision now?" She asked, gesturing to Bae and Bella racing each other up the steps towards the hall.

Rumplestiltskin sighed, "That remains to be seen."

Just because Baelfire was here with them it didn't mean this couldn't all go downhill again…that he couldn't mess up yet again and lose his family. But Bella looked so happy, so…_carefree_, like the child she was. She would be safe here; they could all make sure of that.

She stood with her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side.

"Come on, Momma, Daddy, we've got a whole palace to explore!" She insisted impatiently.

"Yeah, you two, save the romance for tonight," Bae scolded.

Belle blushed and giggled, tugging him along, "We can start with the dining hall, then work our way through the eastern wings," she decided.

He couldn't help but feel, with Belle at his side and his son and daughter waiting up the stairs, that everything somehow _would_ turn out alright. They had overcome the obstacles so far, hadn't they? Surely a new world wouldn't upset the love they had for each other.

And so Rumplestiltskin followed Belle up the stairs and on towards their happily ever after.

**The End**

What kind of author's note can you write at the end besides thank you, you beautiful people, for sticking with me through the good and the bad. I hope we meet again on another project, and your support has been a blessing every step of the way.

There will be an ask-a-thon on Tumblr for a few days, in which you can ask me or the characters anything you like (within reason…though sexual exploit questions for Mr. and Mrs. Gold are okay).If you aren't sick of me yet, please follow this Fanfiction account or my Tumblr ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers for the latest. Thank you!


End file.
